I will have you
by KauriFish
Summary: Darcy is not a man who can take no for an answer. Done at last. Rating changed to reflect the new beginning.
1. A Refusal Refused

"You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy as if challenging him to rebuke the intrinsic merit of her statements. He stared back at her no less bravely.

"You are mistaken, Miss Elizabeth, if you think that such will be the end of the matter. I will have you for my wife."

He had drawn quite close to her where she stood with her back to one of the bookshelves, and grasped her hands in his. She started in outraged shock as he pinned her hands at her sides. His face was scant inches from her own and so was she overwhelmed by his presence and faint odors of cologne, horse and his own self that she could scarce listen to his words.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you agree to marry me?"

Her own pride rallied within her and, though she could not speak, shook her head vehemently.

"In that case you leave me no choice, for have you I will."

Darcy released her hands then turned and swiftly exited the room. The sudden and total silence felt stifling, and Elizabeth shivered as she felt a nebulous yet wracking fear seize her. After a few moments, she tried to resume Jane's letter, but quickly let it fall back, now in the throes of a headache — this one quite real.

Gravel crunched under Darcy's boots as he strode up to the doors of Rosings. Plans for a letter of explanation swirled in his mind, and he barely had the presence to greet his cousin, who accosted him in the foyer, followed closely by Lady Catherine. Darcy tried to give his excuses, but Lady Catherine, smelling something afoot, sent Colonel Fitzwilliam back to the drawing room with orders to serve tea to her guests from the parsonage and took herself upstairs after her nephew.

Darcy, his mind filled with words, scarce noticed his aunt's entrance to his study as he sat to begin the letter, which was swiftly snatched from under his pen.

"What is this, Fitzwilliam Darcy? Why are you writing to Miss Elizabeth Bennet? What could you have to say to that young woman?"

Darcy rose, angered.

"Would you please leave me? I have important business to attend to."

"I will not leave until you explain to me why you are writing to Miss Bennet."

Darcy sighed and sat carelessly.

"I am writing Miss Elizabeth Bennet because I am proposing marriage to her."

Lady Catherine drew herself up in outrage.

"Propose marriage? To Miss Bennet? That is impossible. How can you forget your engagement to Anne? Do you think you are a Turk, to have two wives? You are already engaged, sir." At this, she tore the paper in half. A white rage filled Darcy.

"I am not engaged to your daughter, madam, your and my mother's intentions to the contrary. I have no intention of chaining myself to that unfortunate creature, and you would do well to make some other plans for her."

As Lady Catherine stood, enraged and agape, Darcy seized his hat and fled the room.

Pausing only to assure himself that the parson and his family were still in the drawing room, Darcy hurried back to the rectory, closely followed by his body servant and his groom. He had told them little but that he was required to leave on a sudden trip. His air of command and their habits of obedience made the arrangements disarmingly simple.

The servant again announced Mr. Darcy to Miss Bennet, and he entered the room swiftly and made his way to the window where he signaled curtly to someone out of Elizabeth's sight. He then turned to fix her with a wild gaze, then dropped his eyes and apologized softly, almost too softly for her to hear. Something in his air alarmed her greatly, and the few moments passed slowly by before two men, Darcy's servants, burst into the room.

"Miss Bennett will be accompanying me on my journey," Darcy told them. They seized her. She began to struggle, but it was no use.

"Mr. Darcy, this is infamous," she cried as they forced her from the room, then one put his hand over her mouth to silence any further exclamations. Darcy followed, catching the eye of each servant who had gathered at the scene. The housekeeper bravely stopped him just as they were about to quit the house.

"Miss Bennet and I are going to Scotland," he told her, pressing a coin-filled pouch into her hand and looking meaningfully at her. She took measure of the bag in her hand, then curtsied deep.

"Congratulations, my lord," she said.


	2. The Road to Portsmouth

The carriage wheels clattered against the road. Elizabeth stared alternatingly at the passing countryside and at her new fiancé. Darcy divided his time between watching her and attending to various pieces of correspondence and other paperwork.

Darcy had drafted a maid to pack her things. The woman had hastened under Darcy's imperious and ever so slightly panicked manner. In the carriage and under his supervision, she wrote the Collinses a letter, confessing that she and Mr. Darcy would culminate a secret engagement somewhere out of the country, and promising to write again after the marriage. As they drew nearer the coast, Elizabeth dully realized that the letter and other misdirection was meant to make them assume they were for Gretna Green, while in fact they were on the road to Portsmouth.

Darcy addressed a letter and tucked it away. He looked up at her, then out the window.

"We are very close to town now," he said earnestly. "There we will board a ship, where I can offer you more comforts than this carriage. I'm afraid it would not be wise to stop before we reach the docks. I'm so sorry, this must be terribly shocking for you." His jaw moved as if to express more words, but his throat would not cooperate.

Elizabeth fought a rising tide of tears with a brutal wash of anger.

"How, Mr. Darcy, would you treat a man who treated your sister as you have treated me? I may have no brothers to fight for me, but you can be assured that my father and my uncle will not take this injury lightly."

Darcy scowled. "I would think you would prefer they never come to learn of it, Elizabeth. What's done is done, and it will mean nothing good for the relations between our families if you insist upon airing this matter."

Elizabeth felt fury stab in her stomach and vitriol rise in her throat.

"Can you truly believe that I will be silent, will say nothing of this kidnapping? You force me into an elopement that will shame my family and taint my sisters' reputations, and expect I will consent to be your silent wife? You are mistaken, sir. Your villainous conduct will be known if it is the last thing I do."

Darcy's lips had grown thin and his face flushed with anger as she berated him.

"Do you think you do yourself any favors, madam, by these rash threats? I have said, what is done is done. Word, I am sure, of our elopement has already gone out by your cousin Mr. Collins's eager gossip. Would you return to Hertfordshire without me? Unwed? This is what would disgrace your family." He struggled to bring his temper under control.

"Please, Elizabeth, be assured that I will do everything in my power to quench the rumors and make our union as respectable as possible. We will sail to Guernsey and be wed at St. Peter's Port. I have already written to Bingley, to encourage him to renew his addresses to your sister Jane. I will spend the rest of my life in making up for today to you. Please, cannot you at least consider thinking of forgiving me?"

Elizabeth turned her face away and stared out the window.

"I will never forgive you."


	3. HMS Spaniel

The carriage drew to a halt and one of Darcy's black-clad footmen opened the door. Darcy quickly exited, pulling Elizabeth firmly after him. She shivered as the cold sea breeze blew through her thin muslin, and Darcy pulled her closer as he hurried them toward a long, freshly timbered dock. Elizabeth struggled to pull away, to dash toward the safety of the town. Darcy tightened his hold on her arms and looked pleadingly into her eyes.

"We must do this," he said in low but urgent tones.

The footmen hurried ahead with their baggage, the clomping of the footmen's boots on the wooden planks drowning out the sounds of carousing from the inns near the harbor. To her eyes, the harbor seemed dense with ships. She let Darcy lead her after the footmen, exacting a small revenge with an elbow to his ribs as he guided her to the gangway. He muffled an exclamation of pain, and Elizabeth allowed herself a small smile of pleasure.

"Mr. Darcy, welcome back aboard the Spaniel," cried an officer, doffing his hat to Elizabeth as Darcy brought her on board.

"Lt. Golding, how do you do?" Darcy greeted him. "May I introduce my fiancée Miss Elizabeth Bennett? Miss Bennet, Lt. Samuel Golding of the HMS Spaniel."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Bennett. How do you find Portsmouth?"

Long habit wrested courtesy from her.

"Very well, Lt. Golding."

"I'm so glad, Miss Bennett. May I escort you to your cabin? Mr. Darcy, I believe the captain would like to have a word with you before we set sail."

"Of course," Mr. Darcy said, handing Elizabeth off to Golding, who took the lieutenant's arm with as much good grace as she could muster.

"Captain Newbury, I thank you for accommodating us at such short notice."

A frown warred with a smile on the captain's face.

"I could scarce believe your letter when your messenger brought it an hour ago," Newbury said. "Darcy eloping to Guernsey with some country chit? It's hardly to be believed. Have you taken leave of your wits? Who is this girl?"

Darcy's face flushed darkly. "I assure you she is a respectable young lady. Her family is of no position, but we are in love and I could not bear what my family would make of our connection. I thought it best to act and then present them with a fait accompli. My relations may then avoid Pemberly and us if they wish, but cannot attempt to prevent our union."

The frown won its battle with the smile.

"You are out of your head, Darcy. If I had not such a respect for your persistence I would put you off and send an escort to return your respectable young lady to her family. As it is, I'll be quickest shut of you to take you to St. Peter's Port. The winds are with us, so it should be no more than two days. You're as lucky as the devil that we made this milk run, else you'd be having your wedding voyage on some wallowing pig of a transport ship."

"Thank you, Captain Newbury. I am indebted to you."

The smile reappeared.

"You madman. Have you any idea what your Lady Catherine will make of this? Does your fiancée know what she's getting herself into?"

Darcy looked down.

"She cannot. But I thank you again for your indulgence."

Newbury waved his thanks away.

"It's little enough for all you've done. Now, I'll have White show you to your cabin. It's quite near your fiancée's." He grinned at Darcy's discomfort. "Come now, man. In less than a week you'll be married. Aye, and bedded, too. No need for such scruples in front of an old sailor."

The captain gestured to a midshipman. "Off you go."


	4. Like Gretna Green

Elizabeth watched out the porthole as the sailors cast off and the ship pulled away from dock. The incessant rocking made her faintly queasy, but she shoved the feeling down as she considered her situation.

Married to Mr. Darcy! She regarded the idea with abhorrence. But there seemed to be no escape. From the moment he laid his hands on her in the rectory drawing room that morning, the arrogant man had taken all decisions out of her hands.

She jumped up and began to pace the room.

How could he not have accepted her refusal? It brought Mr. Collins's proposal to mind, how the stupid wretch turned every protestation into a teasing request for more ardent declarations. Indeed, the reflection of Mr. Collins's stubbornness in Mr. Darcy's words was one of the things that had fueled the vehemence of her refusal. Both men had run on, venting their own emotions without regard to her own. Stupid, selfish men, she thought in anger. Each had spoken as if airing their every disagreeable thought would reconcile her to their many personal failings.

She returned to the porthole and stared at the slowly dwindling port. Was there any hope of escape? Was there any point to escape? As Darcy had so cruelly pointed out, Mr. Collins would ensure that word of their elopement made its way swiftly. Was her mother already taken to her bed with shame? Or, she blushed to think, taken with elation at the fine match? And her poor father, what would he think after all her abuse of Mr. Darcy? Would he think her a perfect hypocrite? She was mortified at the thought of his quiet but pained disappointment.

Then her mind turned toward their journey's end. She knew nothing of Guernsey save that it was a small isle quite close to France. And of course, like Scotland, it was exempt from the Marriage Law.

Darcy ignored the view of the coast that his porthole afforded and lent his attention instead to his rapidly dwindling pile of business letters. Some part of his mind knew that when they were done, he would have to turn his attention to Elizabeth, their elopement and how he would explain the situation to Georgiana, to Fitzwilliam, to Lady Catherine, to Bingley and his sisters. He derived a certain grim satisfaction from contemplating how Miss Caroline Bingley would receive the news.

He firmly pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind until, with one last, careful signature, he was at the end of his papers. He waved it dry and stacked it with the others under a paperweight, then pushed back from the writing desk and began to pace the small room, ducking his head to avoid the timbers.

Newbury was right, what madness was this? It had been a shock to learn her true opinion of him. He had been so careful, during their meetings, to cultivate friendliness with her. He had believed she was softening toward him, and that his honest confession of love for her would complete the job. How could she not see his effort, be not moved by the difficulty of his plight?

He turned his decision again over in his head. Was this truly the best course? Could he expect her to face him every day, to welcome him as a wife should a husband, after his actions? And yet now it was impossible that they not marry. Elizabeth's reputation would be ruined, and without his protection, God know what fate would befall her. His only course was the one he had set — elopement — but how could it lead to aught but a lifetime of resentment?

Darcy collapsed into a chair and put his face in his hands. It could not.

A knock at her cabin door drew her from a deep, disturbed reverie. She wiped tears from her eyes and stood, straightening her dress. She opened to door to a midshipman holding a tray. He nervously offered it to her.

"Here you go, ma'am. If your stomach be up to it and all. Only you don't look seasick."

She took the tray of tea and sandwiches and thanked him. He backed away as soon as she took it and made for the deck. Elizabeth let the door swing closed.

She poured herself a cup and sipped it, returning to her thoughts. Darcy would doubtless be as watchful at St. Peter's Port as he was on the road to Portsmouth. She would have no chance to get away before they arrived at the church. No, he would see to it that they were wed. She frowned and set down her cup. The words tolled in her head: married to Mr. Darcy. She would be Mrs. Darcy, mistress of a fine estate, and niece to Lady Catherine De Bourgh. She shuddered slightly at the thought of that imperious lady.

Had Darcy actually wrote Bingley urging him to court Jane once again? The thought was amazing after Col. Fitzwilliam's revelation. She suspected that if it was, it was a part of Darcy's plan to cloak their elopement. If Bingley wed her sister, it would lend credence to his own union and distract attention from it, all at once. His transformation on the subject was abrupt. He had been all righteous heat as he had defended his actions to her, then, only hours later, to write to his friend, urging him on a similar, reckless course to the one he had taken. It made her head spin. But the thought of her elder sister happily wed took some of the bitterness away from her own situation.

She was glad that Jane was not with her. If she was, her habit of unburdening herself to her older sister would surely assert itself, and Elizabeth hated to think of how disturbed Jane would be of Elizabeth's account of Darcy's actions. No, she swore to herself that Jane would never know. She must protect her sister from the sad reality of her marriage. Horror swelled in her as she contemplated what that would mean. She lowered her head to the table and sobbed quietly, dreary images of years of quiet hostility with Mr. Darcy coursing through her mind.


	5. Safe Harbor

Darcy strode across the deck, his eyes fixed to the southern horizon. His eyes were red from sleeplessness. Guilt had plagued him through the night, and the thought of their landfall was the only straw of comfort at which he could grasp.

Three times he had started to go to Elizabeth, but each time had been held back by the memory of her countenance when she told him she would never forgive him. How could he burden her with his company except when it was necessary?

His once-cherished dreams of Elizabeth's constant companionship at Pemberley were dashed by his newfound resolution to give her as much privacy as she required. Surely she would want nothing to do with him, ever. Perhaps she would be willing to appear with him enough to satisfy familial expectations, but that was as much as he could hope for. She would never forgive him, no more than he could forgive himself.

His hands gripped the railing as he watched Guernsey come into view. He was looking forward to their arrival, both because going to land would be a relief from the enforced inactivity aboard the ship and the unrelenting mental discourse that accompanied it, but also because then they would be forced to share company, at least for long enough to disembark and be married. His heart clung to the foolish hope that she would smile at him, her wide eyes sparkling with humor. He attempted to drive this image from his mind. It was no good to hope.

Darcy dimly heard the sailors prepare the ship for harbor, then felt a hand lightly laid on his arm. He looked blearily around to see Elizabeth at his side. Bewilderment rocked him and he struggled for words.

"Elizabeth my love," he blurted, then saw her eyes cloud with confusion. She hesitated for a long moment, then spoke.

"Mr. Darcy, I believe the time has come for us to go into town."

He stared at her. Words again failed him. She watched him, waiting for him to do something, but this unguarded amazement disarmed her. She took in his red-rimmed eyes, his wrinkled coat, his awry hair. She pursed her lips and contained a dry observation about his state, then spoke in gentle tones.

"Shall we go directly to church?"

Her question prompted him and words began to spill out. "I thought, perhaps you would like to refresh yourself at an inn before we go, go to the church. I've asked one of the sailors to take a message to vicar, and I thought we would take rooms at an inn, I've heard there is quite a good inn on the square, not far from the church. We could be at the church by sundown, that is if you don't need, I don't know if you have a dress that you'd care... If you need anything, of course..." He trailed off, looking at her desperately.

Elizabeth, who had already laid out the nicest of her evening gowns, gave him a small, kind smile.

"Perhaps we had best prepare here and go directly to church. I think we will both feel better once that is done."

Darcy looked dazed. "Yes, of course you are right." He shook himself slightly and looked down at himself. "Then I should go to my cabin. I apologize for my appearance, I've," he stopped and swallowed. "I've not been myself lately."

"That I can see," Elizabeth said. She took his arm again and led him below.

The wall of the church enclosed them in cool and quiet after the warm, bustling town square. Darcy begged Elizabeth to excuse him and left her with Newbury and went to consult with the vicar.

Elizabeth went into the chapel and knelt to collect herself, if not to actually pray. This was nothing how she imagined her wedding day would be. She missed her sisters bitterly.

Newbury sat beside her and kept quiet for a moment.

"Miss Bennet," he said eventually. "I know these circumstances are irregular, but it's not seemly for a bride to be so unhappy on her wedding day. Are you not at all pleased to be marrying Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth gave a soft laugh. "I hardly know what to feel, Captain Newbury. His proposal came as an absolute shock. And this," she gestured about them and shook her head, fighting back tears.

Newbury looked hard at her face. "I don't suppose anything I can say will make any difference. But I've known Darcy a long time, and I have never known him to do anything rash. This arrangement is alien to what I know of his character. There must be some very strong feelings involved. I can see they are not on your side. Was his proposal so flattering, then, that you could not refuse him?"

"I was flattered." She bit her lip. "But I was not prepared to accept him. He was so insulting, so high-handed. I know my family has no great fortune and my youngest sisters can be intemperate. But to salt his declarations of love with such remarks, how could he have expected anything but my firmest refusals?" She was in a fury at the memory.

"And yet you accepted him," the captain said, frowning. "I suppose a fortune such as his brooks no refusal." She stood straight with insult.

"I didn't accept him," she shouted. "He insisted and then put it beyond my power to refuse him." Then, shocked at her own poorly judged audacity, she looked behind her to see a white-faced Darcy entering the chapel with the vicar.

With a sob, Elizabeth dashed from the pew and ran through the choir entrance. As the men stood there, horrified, she was gone.


	6. A Friend in Need

Too blinded by her internal agonies to see where she went, Elizabeth passed though the press in town and found herself on the waterfront, where grass gave way to sand. The salt breeze stung her tear-filled eyes and pulled at her bonnet, tugging her carefully arranged hair awry. She gazed out to sea, her mind numbed with outrage and pain.

"My dear, this will do no good. Please, come away from the water and sit with me."

Elizabeth turned to see a handsome, slender lady with kind eyes offering her arm. She let the woman take her arm and lead her to a bench.

"Has some man been treating you poorly, my dear?" the lady asked.

Elizabeth buried her face in her hands and felt tears returning.

"It is a man, is it not? Only a suitor can cause such pain. Who is 'e? What has 'e done to you?"

Elizabeth shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Tears ran freely down her face.

"Is 'e a sailor?"

"No," Elizabeth managed. "We came here to be married and I —" she broke off, unable to continue.

The woman put an arm about her shoulders and patted Lizzie's hand. "This man, do you want to marry him?"

"I believe I must. Everyone thinks we eloped. If I return still unwed, I'll be ruined. My family..." She burst out sobbing once again.

"You must do nothing, my dear. Let us go to my home and think on what to do about this. My husband is away at sea, so will have quiet." She stood, urging Elizabeth up with her. Lizzie started to protest, saying that she could not impose, but the lady shushed her.

"Don't be silly, my dear. Now, how are you called?"

"I am Elizabeth Bennet."

"And I am Eleanor Romney. My husband is Mr. Romney, he is a first mate in the English navy. Now we have had the proper introduction and we can go have the English tea. This will make you feel better."

Lizzie gave her a wan smile, and they turned down the lane.

Darcy burst through the choir doors, desperately searching the crowd for Lizzie's white-clad form. Captain Newbury seized him from behind and Darcy wheeled to face him.

"What is this, Darcy?" the captain demanded. "What is this about your forcing that poor girl to accept you? Explain yourself!"

Darcy wrested his arm from Newbury's grasp and ran into the press, looking for Elizabeth. The captain was hard on his heels, and a moment later Darcy turned again as he heard steel being unsheathed.

"Explain your conduct, sir, or prepare yourself to fight," Newbury growled and pointed his sword at Darcy's heart.

"I have no time to explain, I have not a moment or she will be lost," Darcy cried. "Please, help me find her. We must wed, and today."

The captain stared hard into Darcy's pleading eyes. "First, tell me why. We will not stir a step until you do so, sir."

Darcy swallowed hard. "I pressed her to elope. No, I forced her to into this elopement. She refused my proposal and so I, in my arrogance, made her come with me, knowing that once we left, she would have no choice but to wed with me. I was utterly at fault, but now it is done and I must go through with it. She will be ruined else and I cannot have that. She is too dear to me."

Newbury lowered his sword. "I am disappointed in you, Darcy. It sounds that you don't deserve this girl, whoever she is, but it also sounds that you and she have no choice left." He sheathed his sword. "Come, let us find her and have this done."

Darcy ran through the crowd, but too much time had gone. She was nowhere to be seen.

Elizabeth sipped her tea in the Romney's pleasant sitting room. The walk and the necessity of being polite to this strange but charming woman had calmed her.

Mrs. Romney sat across from her, sipping sherry, seeming content to sit and watch her guest. Elizabeth sighed. She wondered where Darcy was, what he had done after hearing her ill-advised confession to the captain and seeing her abrupt departure from the Town Church. Was he even now taking ship back to England, returning to his life without her? She sighed again. So much for her resolution to go along with Darcy's plans quietly. It seemed impossible now, to spare Jane and the rest of her family the mortification of learning what had befallen her.

Mrs. Romney observed Miss Bennet's carelessly elegant figure and air of upset abstraction and thought her to be a very well-bred young lady indeed.

"So will you confide in me, Miss Bennet, or shall I go wild for knowing what is your concern?" she leaned in toward Elizabeth with a sly grin. "For you remind me very much of a girl I knew back in Saint-Malo. One day she ran off with a British naval officer and scandalized everyone very much."

Elizabeth blushed. "You — your friend eloped with a sailor?"

"She did. He came ashore to look for a deserter and, once he saw her, would not be persuaded to leave her alone. This girl's mother and aunts all thought he would be her ruin. But he brought her to this island and married her and she lives here to this day."

Elizabeth fidgeted with her cup. "But was she accepted as respectable, with such a start?"

"Here, so close to France, it is more understood, I think, that the relationships will not always be so decorous, no? My mother might yell at me, telling me that she will be ashamed to go to church with her neighbors knowing what I've done. But she will be back at mass in a week, and I know if the gossips task her with my ways, she can point to Maria's daughter, who had a baby just six months after her wedding. Or Philipa, who is shamelessly living with another man after she left her husband. These things happen all the time, but we ignore them so we can pretend everyone is behaving, but they are not, we know?"

Elizabeth lowered her eyes. "Perhaps in France, but if an English lady were to do any of those things —"

"That is nonsense. Your Prince George, he married Mrs. Fitzherbert, and she was a widow. The king told he he could not marry her, but the prince did. Was this not scandal? But the prince married her just the same."

"But he was forced to give her up."

"Only because she was Catholic. I think you are changing the subject. I am saying that scandals die, and even your scandal will not be forever. So tell me, how naughty have you been?"

Elizabeth burst into tears.


	7. Drowning Darcy's Sorrows

Captain Newbury gave a pence to a slight ragamuffin, then turned back to Darcy, shaking his head.

"I can't be sure, but I don't think anyone has seen her. The goose girl we talked to an hour ago had the best description, but that trail has long been cold. I don't see how we're going to find your Elizabeth if she does not want to be found."

Darcy paced in tight steps on the cobblestones of the square. "Damn it man, where could she have gone? She knows no one in town, she had no coin for an inn and we haven't seen her in any of the public rooms. Where could she have disappeared to?" He continued to stare around him, knowing it was futile, but he could not help himself.

"How well do you know her? Could she have found some man?"

Darcy stopped abruptly, clenching his hands, preventing himself from doing Newbury a violence by main force of will.

"I tell you she is gently bred. She would no more go off with a strange man than —"

"Than elope?" Newbury asked tersely.

Darcy dropped his head and his shoulders slumped. "I must find her, Newbury. Everything depends upon it. I cannot go back to England without her. I cannot leave her here, friendless and unprotected. Might we go to a magistrate?"

"I don't know that a magistrate would help you. Even if she was found, she could not be forced to marry you. I think that you're going to have to wait for her to come to you."

"Come to me? Are you mad? You heard her, she hates me. She wants nothing to do with me, even if it means the worst for her. This morning I could have sworn that she had seen reason, had seen what we need to do. But after she talked to you —" Darcy looked up at Newbury with a dangerous light in his eyes. "What did you tell her? What did you say to her?"

"I said that I expected she accepted your proposals because of your great wealth. No surprising thing, really. I was surprised when she said she hadn't accepted. I wonder, at that, you were able to force her into the carriage. She must have been screaming the whole way to Portsmouth."

Darcy shook his head sadly. "I believe you may have insulted her, Newbury. Lady Catherine told me she refused her cousin, even though her father's estate is entailed on him. By marrying him she could have provided for her family after her father's death. She seems very determined to marry only — I thought, marry well, but I was not eligible enough for her. I believe her mother intended her daughters for the militia regimental officers."

Newbury began to lead firmly him toward a nearby tavern, and Darcy continued speaking woodenly.

"Mrs. Bennet was so eager for her elder sister's match with my friend Bingley. I felt sure that Elizabeth would want to please her mother by accepting me. Her mother made clear the evening we met that she knew how large a fortune is mine."

Newbury ordered strong ale and put a pint before Darcy, who began to drink reflexively. "I snubbed her, you know, at that ball. I told Bingley that she was not handsome enough for me. I knew perfectly well she could hear. I thought that if I slighted her, she and the other girls would see fit to leave me in peace. My gods, Newbury, how arrogant was I? And that's the least of it."

The barman took the empty pint and replaced it with another.

"Good god, Newbury, how terrible I've been to her."

Mrs. Romney put an arm around the sobbing Elizabeth and handed her a handkerchief. "There now, dear, this will be nothing to you one day."

Elizabeth only cried harder, quickly soaking the thin cotton. The lady held her until her wracking sobs began to subside.

"My dear Miss Bennet, what could be so wrong that it makes you so very unhappy? This man, he does not love you? Is he old? Ugly? Cruel? Did your family force you into this?"

Elizabeth wiped her nose. "No, my family never, would never, not even my mother. And he said he loves me but if he did how could he —" Silence gripped her and her mind returned to the sitting room of the rectory at Hunsford.

Looking intently into her face, Mrs. Romney's eyes drew wide with dawning recognition. "So this man, he forced you to go with him so that you would be forced to marry him?"

Elizabeth hid her deep blush under the soaking handkerchief and nodded.

"This is terrible. Oh, what a shameful man. And now by the English customs you will have to marry him. Quel désastre! Oh my poor, dear Miss Bennet!"

"Yes, I must, I must marry him, if only to spare my family the infamy. We were at the church, about to be wed, when I discovered I could not go through with it. I was speaking with Captain Newbury, who was to be Mr. Darcy's best man and the witness. Captain Newbury assumed that I was marrying Mr. Darcy for his wealth. That made me think how everyone will think — I abused him so to everyone around my home, condemning his pride, his arrogance."

Elizabeth stood and began pacing about the room.

"What a hypocrite I will be thought! And how his family will despise me. And Mr. Wickam, too, how hurt will he be?."

"Will they be so harsh? I would think anyone who knows you would think better of you."

"His family will be harsh as anything. His aunt, a wealthy woman who thinks much of herself, has plotted for years to marry Mr. Darcy to her daughter. I can only imagine how unforgiving she will be of my upsetting her plans. And his sister I hear is a very proud creature as well. She will no doubt look down upon me for bringing nothing to the marriage. And though Mr. Darcy's closest friend, Mr. Bingley, is civil and kind, his sisters are disdainful and haughty. No doubt they will censure me as much as will his family."

Elizabeth collapsed into a chair as if the breath had been knocked out of her.

"And Jane. My dear sister Jane. It was Mr. Darcy who persuaded Mr. Bingley to cease his attentions to her, though they were growing to love each other dearly. It was on the morning of his proposal that I learned of his intervention. How can I face Jane as the wife of the man who spoiled all her hopes? Mr. Darcy said he wrote to Mr. Bingley to reverse his actions, but is his friend so pliable as that? Are Mr. Darcy's powers so great?"

Darcy finished the ale and signaled for another. "Do you know when I knew I had to marry her, Newbury?" he asked his companion, who was blearily finishing his own glass. The light from outside was growing as dim as they were growing drunk.

"It was when she was playing the pianoforte – my god, she plays like an angel. If only you could have heard her. She said that she plays ill, but I've never heard anything so wonderful. She was playing the pianoforte, and I — I can't believe I had the gall to say this to her — I said told her that she said things that she did not mean. And she just smiled up at me like anything. That smile went right through me, Newbury."

The captain lifted his glass,"Here's to Miss Elizabeth Bennet's smile."

"To her smile," Darcy echoed, downing half his ale.

"So as I see it, Darcy, you have two options," said Newbury after a long swallow. "Admit that she outsmarted you and deserves to go her own way. I take you back to Portsmouth on the morning tide and you try to forget about her."

"I'll never forget about her," slurred Darcy. "And I can't abandon her. How can you even suggest it? I'm going to stay right here until I find her." He swallowed the rest of his ale and slammed it back onto the table.

"Right, so if you're not going to let her go, you're going to have to find her. That means either waiting for her to come to you — which doesn't seem very likely, considering the circumstances. Or hire someone to cry your apologies through the streets and hope she'll hear and come to you. Or hire spies to find her out and fetch her to the church, and post someone by that damn choir door this time."

Darcy stared into the bottom of his empty glass. "Drag her kicking and yelling to the altar? My god, man. Is it as bad as all that? Won't she see sense and come quietly? Am I so horrid?"

"I wouldn't say so, but you seem to have rubbed your Miss Elizabeth the wrong way good and proper. What possessed you, man? For sure she is pretty, and she plays the pianoforte, but you could have had your pick of London's prettiest faces and richest dowries. Are you trying to alienate your aunt, is that it? Or is it simply sheer perversity? That would explain a lot."

"I don't know what came over me," Darcy admitted, still playing with his empty glass, the alcohol starting to thud unpleasantly in his head. "It seemed so simple and straightforward at the time. I thought she just needed an excuse, that if she was forced to marry me, she wouldn't have to think of herself as mercenary and that she'd grow to love me in time."

"I'm sorry, but that's the worst chain of reasoning I've ever heard," Newbury said. "Don't you know anything about women, particularly ladies?"

Darcy looked about them. "I would have to say I don't. Are you offering your guidance?"

The captain looked down at his half-finished drink and quickly downed it.

"I suppose that I am."


	8. A Hard Bargain

Newbury descended the stairs of the inn at which he and Darcy lodged, a better class indeed than the tavern at which they had drowned Darcy's woes the night before. His head was muddled with ale, but he was a sight better off than Darcy, who it seemed had no tolerance for the quantity of strong ale which he had imbibed. His friend was still abed as the captain made his way to the common room, where, he had promised Darcy, he was to begin arrangements to find his fiancée and negotiate the marriage. He was just beginning to survey the occupants of the room for a likely crier when a tall woman stopped him.

"Pray excuse me sir, are you Captain Newbury?" The woman had a pronounced French accent, blonde hair knotted neatly atop her head and a purposeful air.

"I am, madam, how may I be of service?"

"I am Mrs. Romney, wife of Chester Romney, first mate serving with Captain Wentworth in His Majesty's Navy. I met a young woman yesterday afternoon who related to me the strangest tale concerning your friend, Mr. Darcy."

"Do you know where she is, madam? I'm afraid my friend is going out of his wits with worry for his fiancée. Is she safe?"

"She is quite safe. But do you think this is the place to discuss this matter?" she gestured around her where a bustling crowd were going about their morning's business.

"Of course not, madam. Pray, let me arrange more privacy for our councils." With a bow he was of to the proprietor. Eleanor watched him. He seemed to her to be a proper officer, of the better sort her husband served with. Not vain and self-important as too many were.

Newbury soon returned with a serving maid who led them upstairs to a private sitting room. Settled with a cup of tea, Mrs. Romney fixed the captain with a stern look and began.

"Captain Newbury, is your friend Mr. Darcy still set upon marrying Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

"He is, madam. He believes that being wed is the only way he can preserve her reputation and make amends for the wrongs he has done her."

"Wrongs, indeed. What if Miss Bennet were not of a mind to marry him? What if she instead decided to pursue her remedies for those wrongs through the courts? What then?"

Newbury started. "Madam, that could serve no purpose but to ruin her reputation for good, whilst staining Darcy honor forever. That would be madness."

"Indeed it would," Mrs. Romney agreed, sipping tea. "And Miss Bennet, gentle girl that she is, would never think of such a thing. And I know that the courts are not kind to a woman claiming seduction, or worse. And though she might eventually win a large award, the cost would be too much."

"They must marry," said the captain earnestly.

"And so they must. Bring Mr. Darcy to me and I shall see if he shares this conviction."

"I assure you he does, madam. And as I am his best man, I am entitled to make all decisions pertaining to the marriage for him."

"Are you? Pray, then, what do you offer, on his behalf?"

"Offer, madam? He offers marriage, as immediately as can be."

"Of course. I meant more tangible terms. Your friend has proved that he cannot be trusted. I, who am also empowered in this matter, will not allow it to go forward until my friend and her family have generous recompense for the aggravation of this unfortunate turn of events."

Newbury blanched and relented. "I will go fetch Darcy," he said, rising.

Two hours later a pale and shaky Darcy and a triumphant Mrs. Romney arose from their negotiations. She bowed to him with a fulsome smile on her face.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for your generosity. I'm sure there can be no objection, now, to the wedding taking place this evening."

Darcy bowed in turn. "Thank you, madam. I'm sure that Miss Bennet could not have found a more suitable friend. If you will excuse me."

Mrs. Romney swept from the room and, finding Newbury waiting anxiously outside the door, granted him the same smile and wished him good day. "I will see you this evening, Captain Newbury." She bowed and was gone.

Newbury hastily entered the room, where Darcy was pacing with aggravation.

"Damnit, Newbury, I'm never drinking with you again. And how could you throw me to that woman — that French shark — with no warning of what I would be dealing with?"

The captain surveyed his friend with some satisfaction. "No, Darcy, I think you've gotten quite what you deserved. And your married life can only get better from here."

Darcy gave his friend a hard look. "If I deserved that I was very bad, indeed. But if Elizabeth tries to invite her to Pemberly, I shall have to put my foot down."

Newbury made no attempt to hide his smile.

"Good luck, Darcy."

Men were quickly dispatched to the Spaniel to fetch evening clothes for the wedding party. Eleanor re-entered her home all smiles and swept Elizabeth into an embrace.

"It is all set now, my dear. You can be sure I made him sorry he ever laid a finger on you."

"Mrs. Romney, what did you do to him?" she asked in alarm.

"Never you mind, Miss Bennet. Do not worry about it, just know that he has suffered as much as you have. And never forget that you have the whip hand over that man, for the rest of your lives.

"But we must hurry. The man with your trunk will be arriving shortly and I must summon Agnes to see to your hair. You wed this evening, my dear."

Elizabeth gave herself up to the maid's skillful ministrations, and by sunset found herself outfitted in the gown she wore to the Netherfield ball and a lace veil artfully arranged over her hair.

Eleanor looked quite transformed in a high-necked gown, feathers adorning her hair in a way that looked quite more natural than Caroline or Louise had ever managed, Elizabeth thought.

As the pair entered the Romney's carriage, Elizabeth began to wonder if she would be able to face Darcy with composure equal to his own.


	9. The Wedding

Darcy slammed the glass down onto the table. Its contents sloshed out onto the wooden tabletop and he glared furiously at Newbury.

"No ale, I told you. Would you have me go to my own wedding drunk as well as hung over?"

"Of course not, Darcy," the captain explained. "Just a small glass, to put you right again. You look unwell. A little ale will get you through the next hour perfectly well. You know Mrs. Romney will be there, of course."

Darcy grimaced and picked up the glass. The man Newbury had brought to dress him was tying his cravat and ale dripped onto the pristine white cloth. The man whipped the cloth off of him, sighing elaborately.

"If monsieur will finish his drink?" he said, rummaging through Darcy's clothes for a fresh cloth. Darcy again grimaced but drank half the ale.

"That will do the trick, Darcy. Now let Gustave finish his work before you drive him to distraction."

Newbury was already dressed, but Darcy's evening clothes had taken a good deal of pressing before Gustave declared them fit for a bridegroom.

It was another half-hour before they were ready to go to the church, and Darcy was anxiously dwelling on the outcome of his previous trip to be wed. Newbury tried to soothe his nerves, but Darcy was having none of it.

"This will probably all be for naught," he said as Gustave finished his apparel. "She will not appear. Or if she does, it will be but to mock me and disappear again."

"Damnation, Darcy. Do you really think she's that cruel?"

"I don't know anymore. It seems an age since I saw her. Do you think she'll really be there?"

"I believe so."

Many candles lit the Town Church splendidly as Elizabeth and Eleanor descended from their carriage. Mrs. Romney surveyed it with satisfaction.

"It looks like your Mr. Darcy went to no small trouble. I think the vicar is quite adequately soothed."

This reflection did nothing to soothe Elizabeth's nerves as Eleanor handed her a small bouquet of white flowers and preceded her into the church.

Darcy felt like a statue, a most uncomfortable statue, as the moments dragged on. Captain Newbury stood at his side, the vicar behind them as he watched the entrance anxiously for some sign of his bride.

Darcy was about to tell Newbury that, having been proved right, he was ready to head back to the tavern, when Mrs. Romney came through the doors. Though not quite old enough to be Miss Bennet's mother, no mother could look so proud as she did sweeping down the aisle to stand across from Captain Newbury. She gave Darcy a pleased look before settling down into her place and turning her attention to the door. Discomfited, Darcy nearly missed his bride's entrance.

Serene and composed, Miss Elizabeth Bennet walked down the aisle toward him. Darcy's heart began hammering in his chest as her eyes passed over him to meet the vicar's. Was she planning some humiliation for him? Would this marriage take place?

Elizabeth stopped next to him, and he turned around at her side to face the vicar. That holy man's harsh words at hearing the tale behind the aborted ceremony haunted him as Darcy looked into his peaked face.

As the vicar began the ceremony, Darcy forced himself to look at him, at the adornments on the railings, anything but what he desperately wanted to do, which was to study his bride for any hint of her feelings.

Elizabeth did not see any hint of discomposure on her bridegroom's face as she approached him. Perhaps a hint in his eyes? She could not tell. As the familiar words of the marriage service washed over her, doubts plagued her heart as to the rightness of her acquiescing to this union.

As the vicar asked if there was any impediment to their union, Elizabeth could scarcely quiet a desperate fit of laughter. He hastened over the silence that followed his words, beginning the vows.

As Darcy said, "I will," Elizabeth began to feel a trembling deep in her chest. Could she make her vow?

"Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Darcy thought her silence would last forever, until she spoke a quiet, "I will." He thought he had never been more relieved in his life, and it was with real warmth that he took her hand.

"I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, take thee, Elizabeth Bennet, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

They loosed hands and she forced herself to look into his eyes as she echoed the words. There was a desperate hope dawning there that she could scare look at. With relief she looked away as Darcy turned to Newbury for the ring. But his eyes caught hers again as he put the ring on her finger.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Darcy was sure he would burst with joy and terror as the knelt for the prayer. She was his wife. But any triumph he may have felt was allayed with guilt and fear of what this would mean for the rest of his life. How would they live together? Would she resent him forever?

Elizabeth's mind was blank as they stood though the blessings. She wanted to crawl behind a pew as the vicar beseeched the Lord for fruitful procreation. How was she to submit to the nuptial bed? Her mind went black again: She could not think of such a thing before the altar.

They received communion and the rest of the ceremonial instructions for marriage. Elizabeth could not help thinking that St. Paul would have written differently if he had been a woman.

Then they were recessing back into the nave, husband and wife.


	10. A Cold Wedding Night

Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm as they stepped out of the church doors, and she hesitatingly accepted it. Eleanor, who had accepted Newbury's arm, smiled warmly at the party. The Romney carriage drew into the road ahead of them.

"I've ordered supper to be served at my home," Mrs. Romney announced, welcoming them into the carriage. "I would be pleased if you would join me."

Elizabeth swelled with gratitude toward her friend. "Thank you, Mrs. Romney."

"But of course, my dear."

As they seated themselves, Mrs. Romney continued, "You are lucky to be visiting the island in spring. We will be having ormer, the abalone, and you have never tasted anything so sweet and tender."

Her chatter filled the air, but Darcy scarcely heard a word. He was staring at Elizabeth, his wife, sitting across the carriage next to Mrs. Romney, seeming politely attentive to that lady. He feared the moment he would be left alone with her, but longed for it as well. What would she say when she no longer needed to fear making a scene unpleasant to others? He feared to dwell on it.

The carriage clattered up a steep hill to the Romney residence. It was situated not far from the town square. Newbury observed that it must be convenient to Mr. Romney.

"Oh yes, when his ship returns it is often not above a quarter-hour before he is at the door," said Mrs. Romney, smiling broadly. "And so happy to be home. This is the excellent thing about being the wife of a sailor. Would your wife not agree, Captain Newbury?"

"Mrs. Newbury wishes I were at home more, but I do agree, the sea makes homecoming all the merrier." He looked briefly between Darcy and Elizabeth, then away.

Mrs. Romney's man opened the door and the party entered the home. Mrs. Romney conferred with her housekeeper and announced that dinner would be served in a half-hour. She proceeded to lead them on a tour of the home. They ended in an upstairs parlor.

"Here, you can see, one can see the ship," she said, looking out a fine window. The lights aboard the ships bobbed with the waves all about the harbor. Wistfulness touched her smile as she gazed out. "When I am expecting him, I can see the Laconia as she comes past the breakers." She turned back to them, smiling brightly once more. "Come now, let us to supper. You two must be very hungry."

Mrs. Romney seated the Darcys side by side, noting that it was silly to separate newlyweds. "Now in a few years, when you are telling your stories differently, then we will keep you apart or you will fight. And there is nothing so unpleasant as a man and wife fighting, is it not so?"

Darcy felt a twinge of gratitude toward her, appreciating his wife's presence at his side. She had little share in the conversation, but seemed lively enough when she spoke. He was quiet as well, and Mrs. Romney and the captain carried most of the conversation.

After the covers were lifted, Eleanor led them into the drawing room, where she persuaded Elizabeth to play for them. The lovely sounds nearly melted Darcy, who watched her fondly as she played. As she rose from her seat, she found her husband's eyes upon her. Their gazes locked, and it seemed ages passed as they looked at each other.

Mrs. Romney cleared her throat. "It is late. Gentlemen, I took the liberty of having your things brought from that inn. Agnes will show you to your rooms."

Elizabeth started to go to the room in which she had slept the night before when Mrs. Romney pulled her aside. She waited until the others had gone out of sight before addressing her.

"Now remember dear, you need not share a bed with him tonight or any night until you want to have children. Or you are overcome by passion."

Elizabeth colored deeply. "I don't think..."

"Now I do not think he'll try anything, but you never know with these men. They can think they own you, and it is up to us to correct these assumptions. Tell him that if he is a gentleman, he will wait for you. If he says he will visit a disreputable woman, do not worry about this. Men will do this if they will and their threats make no difference one way or the other."

Lizzie's blush was now permanent, she believed. She stammered her thanks for the advice and quickly shut herself into her room. She could hear the faint sounds of Darcy moving about in the adjoining chamber. Agnes soon came to release her from the gown and help her into a night gown. The maid had proffered several on her mistress's orders, but Elizabeth declined and climbed into her own, familiar muslin. Thanking Agnes, she climbed into bed. It was a long while before she slept.

Darcy suffered through Gustave's ministrations, then flung himself into a chair to meditate upon his wedding night. When he had thought of this night when he was steeling himself to propose — well, it was vastly different than being alone in this cold bed chamber.

He wanted to speak with her, to explain himself to her, to earn her forgiveness. But he did not trust himself alone with her. Twice at Hunsford he had been alone with her. The first time he had removed himself quickly when he found himself losing control. The second — well, he would forever live with his conduct the second time he had been alone with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Could he more trust himself with Mrs. Darcy?

He could not. But he must speak with her, to make his thoughts known to her as he could only do when they were alone. A long walk could do. The thought of the walks near Pemberly came to mind. Would it have to wait so long? Yes, they must go into Hertfordshire as soon as possible, to visit the Bennets and assure them that all was well. Only then could they retire to Darbyshire and to the quiet that making peace between them would require.


	11. The Storm's Teeth

The parting of Elizabeth and Eleanor was a tearful one. Darcy refrained from objecting to his wife's invitations for the Romneys to visit them as soon as could be. The carriage took them back to the docks, and by mid-morning, they were back on their way to Portsmouth.

Captain Newbury advised them that the trip would likely take above a week, owing to the winds and current. He then busied himself with his instruments and officers, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth to their own devices.

Elizabeth resettled herself into her cabin, feeling for the first time the lack of many of the conveniences which she had neglected to pack in their haste to quit Hunsford. She wondered if those things might be conveyed to Longbourn without her having to travel there, for indeed she could bear neither the thought of exposing herself to Lady de Bourgh, Mr. Collins or even her dear friend Charlotte, nor of delaying her return to home and the comforts of Jane.

In the morning, when she was taking a turn about the ship, she encountered Darcy and asked him whither they would travel once they returned. He answered tolerably, that as soon as they reached land that certain letters would be dispatched, with her approval, with instructions to remove her possessions back to Hertfordshire, to her family at Longbourn where he hoped they might be received, and arrange for their removing to Pemberley once that visit was complete.

"As to the other arrangements," said Darcy, gazing out to sea, "of which Mrs. Romney spoke so closely, I shall soon have an agreement that will want only your signature for execution."

Elizabeth, so bemused by Darcy's manner, could only murmur her consent to whatever he thought best before excusing herself to go below to her room. His distracted manner was quite at odds with his previous warmth, and she began to wonder if he was thinking the better of their marriage.

If ever he was, she thought, sitting back on her bed, it was too late to do aught about it.

The next day broke gray and stormy. Most of the sails were furled and the sailors went tensely about their chores. Their mood could not help but be communicated to their passengers. Elizabeth, who had been quite equal to a calm sea, felt herself sickened by the continual rocking of the ship. Darcy, himself pale, shadowed her as she strode about the deck, trying to calm her stomach. At last he approached her.

"Is there anything I can do to assist you, anything at all?" he asked nervously, eyeing a flapping rope. She breathed deeply of the salty spray.

"No, thank you, Mr. Darcy," she said, gritting her teeth. As if it wasn't enough to be plagued with queasiness, the necessity of being civil to Darcy was too trying. His solicitude struck her as hypocritical and she was determined to disallow him any courtesy toward her.

Shocked by her tone, Darcy stepped quickly away from her. The flapping rope cracked loudly as the sail it was holding gave way in the stiff wind. As Darcy stepped backward, the end of it caught him a sharp blow and he staggered against a low railing. A look of panic swept his face as he, for a moment, flung his hand toward Elizabeth for aid. She hesitated a moment, and the ship lurched. A loud splash, and he was gone.

Men toiled in the storm, split between keeping the ship afloat and hauling on long lines in the hopes of bringing Mr. Darcy back aboard. Golding had hurried Elizabeth back to her cabin and safety, and there she sat, shivering and wet, wracked by pangs of guilt. She listened, trying to ascertain over the sounds of creaking wood and storm, cries that would speak to Darcy's rescue. She could hear little, and her anxious thoughts soon overcome her.

Was she a murderer? Had, by denying him aid, she consigned Darcy, her husband, to a drowning death?

She bit at her cold fingers, enraged at her own perfidy. She had righteous anger against him, to be sure. Their forced elopement had been arrogant, a nearly unforgivable sin. But did it warrant death?

Some part of herself chimed in that they would not have been on this vessel had he not made these plans and coerced her into them. But a larger part said that, no matter his crime, hers was worse for it sprang from resentment and hard heart.

She wept, miserable in the grasp of damp, incessant rocking and wracking conscience. It seemed hours since Golding had left her alone. If Darcy had not been recovered, then he must be drowned and she a widow. Grief came upon her, unforeseen and powerful, for the loss of whatever small happiness their future together might have held. She stared at the gold ring on left hand, and hot tears poured down her cold face.

When Elizabeth finally roused herself, cold light was streaming into the cabin. She felt chilled though, cold and resigned. She pushed her way into the hallway and above deck, where a few men still kept lookout. The captain approached her, sorrow lining his face.

"Mrs. Darcy, I'm so sorry. I'm afraid we weren't able to find him."

She felt as if she were freezing all the way though her being. The captain was apologizing profusely, saying that they had done everything possible to recover him, but had been thwarted by the dark and tempest.

She nodded slowly, the reality of her widowhood descending gradually into her heart.

"I thank you for your efforts," she said softly.

Newbury gently took her hand. "We shall be in Portsmouth in a few days. I suggest you use this time to go though your husband's things and make any decisions you feel right. I'm afraid that once we land, you will not have much leisure for contemplation. There will be his family to deal with, and I believe you know how demanding certain of his relations can be."

Elizabeth silently balked at the idea of making any decisions regarding affairs of which she knew little or nothing, but knew the advice to be good, and took her leave, letting Golding escort her to Darcy's cabin.


	12. What He Proposed

After shutting the door of Darcy's room to a bowing, apologetic Golding, Elizabeth gave way to tears once more. She felt so entirely alone, so overwhelmed by what had gone on. She badly wanted counsel. She most particularly wanted her father. Mr. Bennet could make sense of these stacks of papers and correspondence. She knew not where to start.

She dragged herself to the table and cast her eyes upon a stack of unsealed letters. On the top was a letter addressed to Lady de Bourgh and she took it up.

HMS Spaniel

April 18, 181-

My dear aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh,

I must write to inform you of my late marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. I realize that this sudden action must be a discomforting surprise to you and my cousin, but pray let me assure you that I mean no ill-will towards yourself or any of my relations by it. I believe that Miss Bennet, as was, will make an honorable addition to our family. I know that you will make her welcome.

In my making arrangements for my bride's family, I must ask you for your aid. As you know, Mr. Bennet's estate is entailed on Mr. Collins. As her husband, I cannot allow her family to fall into poverty after his death. Per this, I have made arrangements to take possession of a small estate near Crockham. As I'm sure you can appreciate, this is a very easy distance from Rosings and would allow great intimacy between the residents of that house and yourself and my cousin. I will offer this house and its establishment to Mr. Collins in exchange for his quitting his claim upon the Bennet estate. I would appreciate your efforts, as Mr. Collins's patroness, to encourage the wisdom of this transaction to him. It would have every advantage to him: an easy visiting distance to Rosings, a somewhat grander estate, and the possibility of at once moving into country retirement.

If the estate does not suit Mr. Collins, I will arrange for custody of it to be transferred to the Bennets. This may be the better arrangement, for it will allow easy intimacy between our families. Mrs. Bennet, of which you have heard so much, will I am sure be very pleased to visit with you regularly. And the misses Bennet would make a happy addition to your social scene.

I leave Mr. Collins' conscience in your altogether competent hands, and pay my compliments to you and my cousin.

Yours etc.

Elizabeth sat in shock, the letter hanging forgotten in her hand. To thus at once threaten and importune his aunt, for the sake of her family? It was too much.

Casting the letter aside she looked though the papers. She found a letter addressed to Mr. Darcy from Crockham. It was from the resident of that estate, acknowledging Darcy's lien on his property and accepting an offer to buy the remaining interest in the property, with himself to quit the premises within six months of a mutually agreed upon time, with a note upon the rents to be paid until then.

Elizabeth scare could draw breath. For Darcy to engage in such schemes, all on behalf of herself and her family, was more than she could accept. Was this his idea of what his wife's family deserved, or what his own honor demanded?

Seizing the stack of unsealed letters, she discovered one addressed to her own father. In haste she removed it from its envelope and examined its contents. It offered an apology for their elopement and outlined his plan to free Longbourn of the entail. It also laid out dowries for her sisters, in such generous amounts that Elizabeth could scarcely credit it, even with the knowledge of Darcy's £10,000 income. Other letters confirmed that he was selling minor properties to finance this expenditure. She could imagine her younger sisters' raptures at the conceit of having the money to marry better than they ever imagined.

But was this to take place? Darcy's signatures were affixed, but with his loss, would anyone credit these schemes enough to make them real? Try as she might, she could not imagine her father completing these plans, dealing with the sorts of people it would be necessary to bargain with.

If she were to forget these letters and return home a widow, what would it mean for her own future? Her family?


	13. On Alderney's Shore

A hard thud jarred Darcy's form, awakening him from the entranced state in which he had spent the night. The tide had thrown him against a rock, nearly loosing his death grip on the oar, which was all that had kept him afloat through the nightmarish storm. He raised his eyes to see rocky cliffs. No sanctuary there. His spirits, which had been lifted by the sight of land, sank again. He surveyed the shore and thought the cliffs might give way to the south. Clutching the oar, he began to paddle wearily along the coast.

Darcy abandoned the oar and pushed himself onto the sandy shore, gasping for breath. Fighting the waves on his way to land had nearly done him in, and he clutched at the wet sand, silently thanking God for his return to land. Miserable pain was etched through his whole body, remnants of his night's struggle to stay alive in the tossing sea.

A wave crashed over him, and he scrambled up the beach to dry sand, fearful of being swept back into the brine. He forced himself to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. Sand gave way to bright green grass and a few scattered trees. He began to walk toward the green, fighting to move within his sodden clothes. As he crested the rise that separated sand from turf, he saw cattle, fine red and white cows, cropping the grass.

A sudden concern for his safety gripped him. Had he been swept all the way to France and was now in the hands of England's enemies? A child's cry seized his attention, "Maire! Maire! Un homme estrange est daouns la taïrre! Maire!"

Darcy drew breath and stood his ground as a man and woman approached. Whatever happened, at least he would not die at sea.

The coarse cloth felt odd against his skin, but he was grateful for the dryness and warmth. The woman brought him milk and black bread, which he eagerly devoured. Despite his long ordeal, he had not felt hunger until he was dry and knew himself to be safe. The man had told him he was on Alderney, a day's sail from Guernsey, and another of the empire's protected islands in the Channel.

As well as he could understand their strange dialect, the man had told him that he had sent word to town that an English gentleman had been washed ashore. Darcy was not sure what would follow, but as he lay down on cloth-covered straw and surrendered to sleep, the thought of Elizabeth still safe on board and protected by his name comforted him.


	14. Return to Longbourn

Elizabeth stared at the town as Portsmouth came into view. The six days at sea had been interminable, with the sailors treating her with quiet deference, scarcely a word was spoken to her. While Miss Bennet might have had company, the widowed Mrs. Darcy was beyond approach. She had even found herself missing Mr. Darcy's dry wit. As near as she could come to laughter in these grim days, she nearly laughed at herself for missing him. She who had been so eager to be out of his company. It was clear that sea-faring did not agree with her, however she failed to be seasick.

Captain Newbury gave her grave farewells and saw her safely onto a carriage. She could not bring herself to post any of Darcy's letters, and contented herself with writing a few lines to Longbourn, telling them of her imminent arrival. In fact the journey was more than 100 miles, two day's hard travel if she did not stop in London. The idea of calling on Mr. Bingley, his sisters or Miss Darcy chilled her to the bone, but she thought of calling on her aunt and uncle Gardiner, before thinking that they were most likely in Hertfordshire with the Bennets and she would serve them all best by arriving as quickly as possible.

It was a lonely journey, nearly unbearably so after her long solitude aboard the Spaniel. She had more time than she could possibly want to reflect on her own behavior and her feelings.

She contented herself with writing a long letter to Mrs. Romney, to whom she could relate her surprising discovery of Darcy's intentions toward her family with some abandon. Of her own guilt in his death she said nothing, for she could not come to terms with it. Only Jane could absolve her, if absolution were possible.

The carriage door opened to display the anxious but happy faces of her father, mother, all her sisters, the Gardiners and Mrs. Phillips. She was swept into so many embraces and heard so many clamoring requests for information that she could scarce take it in.

Mrs. Gardiner, happily, saw her distress and whispered to her father, who took her firmly by the hand and led her inside.

"Now, everyone, Lizzie has had a tiring journey. I'm sure explanations can wait until after she has recovered from the road."

Elizabeth looked up at her father in gratitude. He put an arm about her shoulders and looked at her fondly. "I cannot say how much you have been missed, Lizzie. We are all eager to hear your strange tales, but do not lest they wrest them from you until you can do them justice."

The familiar sights of her home filled her with comfort, and with great relief she entered her own room. Here she could put all into place. Here she could make sense of all that had occurred and decide what was to be done.

Elizabeth looked longingly at her bed, but it could be put off no longer. She soothed the black muslin over herself — looking in the mirror she thought it suited her not at all. It had been so long since the family had been in mourning that it was rather too small for her. She had a year of black clothes ahead of her, so she must put some thought to having black gowns made up.

With that thought in mind, she exited her room and descended the stairs to her waiting family.

On entering the dining room, she noted with comfort that the Phillips had departed. Facing the Bennets combined with the Gardiners was difficult enough. Gasps and whispers sounded as she entered the room. Mary started to speak, but Jane silenced her. Elizabeth took her place, gathered her courage and spoke.

"I do not know how much rumor has reached you, but I must tell you that Mr. Darcy and I were married and while we were traveling back from Guernsey, he was swept off the ship and was killed."

Mrs. Bennet cried out, Lydia and Kitty gasped and started in with questions. Mary seemed at a loss for an appropriate proverb. Mrs. Gardiner grew pale and had to be supported by her husband. Jane was instantly at Elizabeth's side, comforting her. Mr. Bennet was absolutely silent, his eyes wide in wonder.

When Mr. Gardiner had helped his wife from the room to lie down and the mother and sisters' hubbub had died down, Jane remained at Lizzie's side, soothing and murmuring to her.

Elizabeth tearfully explained that Mr. Darcy had prevailed upon her to elope, had engineered the Gretna Green misdirection and instead brought them to St. Peter Port, where they had been married by the Town Church's vicar.

"I have all the documents, the marriage certificate," she said. "Father I also have — I have some other papers that I must beg you to confer with me about. I know not what to do with such business."

A look of concern lit on Mr. Bennet's face. "Of course, Lizzie. I will attend to anything that requires it. Do not worry yourself about any such things."

Lydia was looking at her with wonder.

"Lizzie, you're a widow! Now you can chaperone us to the balls and parties and Mama need not be bothered!"

This unbefitting exultation seemed to mark an end to the orderly family gathering, and the party broke up, their dinner untasted, to confer over these tidings in private.

Leaning heavily on Jane's arm, Elizabeth retired back to her room.

"Poor Lizzie," Jane said, seating her sister comfortably on her bed and drawing blankets about her.

"Oh Jane, how I wanted you, needed your comfort and counsel. It seems ages since you left for London. How you must have suffered when Mr. Darcy's letter was made known to you."

"We were all shock," Jane admitted. "When we read that you and he were headed to Scotland, we did not know what to think. Papa made such a point that you dislike him. Mary pointed out that perhaps your dislike might have been hiding a deeper regard, but I did not think it could be so."

"I admit that upon our acquaintance in Kent, I did grow to like him a bit better, Until the colonel — oh Jane, how can I tell you — Mr. Bingley —"

Jane's gaze widened at this. "I had not thought to tell you, since your affairs were so much greater."

"Oh, please, Jane, tell me. Any good news is vastly needed."

"Mr. Bingley wrote to father asking his permission to pay his addresses to me. The letter came just yesterday. I don't know if he has yet written back, in the excitement of your return, but I feel sure that he will give his consent. Mr. Bingley said he would return to Netherfield within the month. We've said nothing to mother as yet."

Jane's cheeks were glowing as she gave her sister this news. Elizabeth eagerly congratulated and embraced her.

"I knew all along that Mr. Bingley loved you. It was in Kent that I discovered, Mr. Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, told me that Darcy had separated him from you, had used his influence over his friend to force him to stop his attentions to you. He had told me that morning, and I was so outraged at his officious behavior that when he arrived that same day to propose, I could not hear him without anger. I told him that my disgust at his conduct in your and Mr. Bingley's attachment and his infamous behavior toward Mr. Wickham made it evident to me that I could never marry him."

"Then how could he have prevailed upon you to accept and to elope with him? How did he overcome your anger, Lizzie?"

Elizabeth turned away and hid her face.

"Lizzie?"

Only the soft sound of her sister's sobbing answered her. Bewildered, Jane put her arms around Elizabeth and waited. Harsh gasps sounded from her throat as she poured out her suffering. After some little time had passed in this manner, Elizabeth regained herself.

"Jane, I do not know if I could ever have forgiven him. He would not accept my refusal of him. He all but forced me into the carriage to Portsmouth and did not let me go until we were safely on board and off to sea. All of my denials and protestations were for naught."

"Infamous behavior! Oh my poor Lizzie, to be treated so. How could even a man so proud as Mr. Darcy behave in such a fashion? It is unpardonable!"

Elizabeth poured out the rest of the story: her resignation to the union as they entered St. Peter Port, her conversation with Captain Newbury, her escape from the church, her meeting with Mrs. Romney.

"I do not know how I would have gone through with the ceremony without her," she confessed. "I knew that I must, for the sake of my family and my own reputation, but facing Mr. Darcy at the altar after what he had done, it was too much to be borne alone. How I missed you!" She fell again into her sister's arms.

After renewed freshets of tears, Elizabeth finished the tale of the ceremony and Mr. Darcy's tragic end in the Channel.

"Jane, I was so angry with him, and he was gone so quickly. Do you think I might have saved him?"

"Oh no, Lizzie. Against the storm and the waves, how could you have kept him from going overboard? Likely if you had tried, you would have been lost as well."

Elizabeth reflected upon this. Perhaps it was true. Musing, she opened a chest and rifled though papers until she found one letter in particular.

"There is something else I must share with you, Jane. In Mr. Darcy's papers I found this letter to me in which he describes the truth of Mr. Wickham's dealings with his family." She gave it to her sister to read. When Jane had finished, she looked at Elizabeth with staring eyes.

Elizabeth took back the letter, staring at the writing with a nagging fondness.

"Can you believe how terribly wicked Mr. Wickham was to Miss Darcy, and she only 15 years old?" Elizabeth asked.

"It is too dreadful," Jane replied. But she could not believe her sister's dead husband a liar in this.

"Mr. Wickham's attachment to Mary King came to naught, but the regiment will be gone from Meryton in less than a month," Jane reported.

"Good," Elizabeth replied. "He can be gone none too soon for my taste. Dreadful man, to abuse a young girl's trust so. She was lucky to have a brother to protect her." She looked at her sister with tear-filled eyes.

"Oh Jane, what am I to do? It is too much."

"Calm yourself. Go to sleep, and in the morning you can talk to Papa. He will know what is best."

Elizabeth felt her heavy lids dragging and admitted the wisdom of Jane's plan. With Jane's help she was comfortably into bed in a few minutes, and asleep before her sister slipped out the door.


	15. Awkward Explanations

Elizabeth awakened to a light knock on the door. It was Sarah, who brought with her several black dresses. She told the sleepy widow that they belonged to Mrs. Bennet, who had sent them to her.

"She thought they would fit better, miss. I mean, ma'am." She curtsied in embarrassment.

"Thank you, Sarah," she said, looking though them. They had obviously been made for her mother in her younger days, and would take little alteration to fit her own slim form. It was the work of a few minutes to modify one enough to wear today, and Sarah said she would have the rest taken in by that evening.

Elizabeth thanked her again and went downstairs to breakfast.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were in the hallway, and the aunt embraced her niece.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, my dear," she said. Elizabeth looked uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner. It feels so strange, for we were only married a day, and under such strange circumstances."

"That makes it all the more necessary to observe the necessaries," her aunt said. "You are the proper mistress of Pemberley now, Mrs. Darcy. It will not do to let your late husband's memory be mistreated."

Elizabeth thanked her again and they proceeded into the dining room. Over the meal she satisfied her relations' questions with a palatable version of events: She and Mr. Darcy had come to an understanding early in his stay in Kent and he had persuaded her to an elopement. Sensitive to her tender feelings, they stayed away from the topic of her bridegroom's watery demise, though she could sense ghoulish questions not far from Lydia's lips. It was with relief that she accepted her father's invitation to retire to his study with him.

Cloistered in his study, Elizabeth laid out selected documents for his review and sat back while he perused them. His expression went from benign to incredulous.

"Such a man, Lizzie! Such rich plans he had for your poor relations." He set them aside and looked at her fondly. "I am sorry for your loss, whether or not you liked him, but I think I may be more fond of my son-in-law this way than the other."

"Please, Papa."

"I'm sorry, Lizzie. I can't but think of him as the proud, disagreeable man who slighted my daughter. And a secret engagement and elopement! This is the sort of conduct I would expect from Kitty of Lydia, not my Lizzie. What were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, Papa."

"Well, I suppose he's the sort of man who could not be refused anything. I do wish that you had managed to refuse him, for his sake as well as your own, but what's done is done and I won't task you with it. I'm all to glad to have you home. I do hope you are home. You don't intend to take up residence at Pemberley, do you?"

"That is one of the issues I was hoping to speak with you about. As much as I don't like the idea of taking up residence in some drafty old mansion, I fear it might be the right thing to do. It might be what he wanted me to do."

"I don't know that we need to concern ourselves with Mr. Darcy's wishes too much at this point, my dear. But it is certainly an issue. I believe the first thing that we must do is publish the notice of your marriage, and his death, in the London papers, as soon as can be."

He pulled forth a sheet of paper and a pen and began copying details from the marriage certificate. Elizabeth hated to interrupt him whilst he was at a task, but felt she must.

"But Papa, about the estate at Crockham."

Mr. Bennet looked up.

"What, well, it seems like a handsome idea, but I imagine Miss Darcy and her guardians may have a word or two about the disposition of his properties. I'm afraid it may be difficult to get the whole of your rights recognized."

"Mr. Darcy was his sister's guardian, along with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I met him in Kent. He is a good man, and devoted to his ward."

"Perhaps we should invite him to Longbourn to discuss the matter. There need be no hurry about it, Lizzie, aside from getting your marriage recognized by the various parties."

He bent again to his paper.


	16. A Passage to Hertfordshire

Darcy scrambled into the longboat, crying his thanks to the crew as they lowered him down. A man o' war had given him passage from Alderney, hailed for him by men of that island whom he had convinced of the urgency of his return to England. The captain of the ship he had likewise importuned shamelessly with the tragic tale of separation from his bride. They had agreed to drop him at Southend-on-Sea, a mere day's ride from Hertfordshire.

As the man rowed him into the harbor, Darcy's mind anxiously settled on the next stage of his journey. A horse, a decent change of clothes for when he presented himself to his new family. He could easily draw sufficient funds for these in town.

The sailor tied up to the dock and Darcy was onshore in a heartbeat. Grateful to be back on English soil, he lifted his eyes up for a moment in silent praise. God had blessed him with his life. And, by God, he would do what was right with that life.

A day passed in welcome quiet at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet had called on her sister to inform her of her daughter's marriage and widowhood, so those cries could be heard only in Meryton, though to be sure the whole town heard them.

Elizabeth concentrated on keeping her tale consistent with what she had decided to make public. And keeping any knowledge of the promise of rich dowries and estates far from her sisters' and mother's ears. She had no wish to disappoint them if it proved impossible to manage the business of it.

She reviewed the letter her father sent to Colonel Fitzwilliam, addressed to Rosings for lack of a better-known address, and saw it sent. The marriage announcement was placed, and the next day would see it published.

It was not impossible to keep her younger sisters from speculating on what their sister's marriage might mean for them, for Bingley's imminent arrival together with the departure of the regiment from Meryton was distraction enough for twice as many silly young girls.

Elizabeth pondered the decisions before her. Should she press Colonel Fitzwilliam to honor the agreements Mr. Darcy had laid out? She worried that to do so would lay her open to every accusation of grasping avarice. But it would be for the betterment of her family. Her responsibility toward them seemed clear.

She was on the verge of taking up one or more of the documents once again, when Jane entered, bent on persuading her to talk a walk. She gladly abandoned her labors for the respite of a turn about Longbourn.

The Phillips had invited them to dinner, but Mrs. Bennet was unclear if Elizabeth's mourning prevented her from attending and if the mourning extended to the whole family. She contented herself with encouraging the girls to dress in dark colors, and deciding that a family dinner with the Phillips was acceptable, even for a new widow. So to Meryton they drove. Mrs. Phillips received Elizabeth with a note of fawning that ill became her and make the object of her attentions quite uncomfortable. In consideration of the family's mourning Mrs. Phillips had invited no officers, which disappointed Lydia and Kitty dreadfully, and the rest of the family must spend the evening listening to their bemoaning the lost opportunity, so inopportune in light of the regiment's departure.

Elizabeth was relieved of the duty of relating gossip by her mother, who happily filled in any details found wanting with a rich mixture of conjecture and wishful thinking, relying on her daughter only for an occasional endorsement. For that, a nod sufficed.

As the Bennets were bundled back into their carriage, Denny and Wickham approached to pay their respects. The two younger sisters hastened back out to greet them.

"Is old Darcy truly dead?" Elizabeth heard Wickham inquire of Lydia, who eagerly agreed. "Oh yes. He married our Lizzie then fell off the ship on the way back." "She must be terribly sad. Pray give her my condolences."

"Oh, I don't think she's all that sorry. Who could miss such a terrible, proud man?" Lydia said, dimpling at the red-clad man.

"That will do," said Mr. Bennet shortly, beckoning to his daughters. "Come now, Lydia, Catherine." Kitty started at this, realizing the threat implicit in his use of her full name, and pulled her sister from Wickham's arm.

"Good-bye now, we shall expect to see you soon!" Lydia cried as the horses started.

Elizabeth hid her face in the upholstered wall as they clattered home.


	17. Some Unexpected Introductions

Jane and Lizzie were sitting over their embroidery in the sitting room after breakfast when Kitty ran in.

"You would not believe, there is such a carriage that just drew up. It must be someone terribly important."

Elizabeth raced to the window. She recognized the carriage, and the lady descending from it. Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Clad in black. She dropped her embroidery on the table and grasped Jane's hand.

"It is Lady de Bourgh, Mr. Darcy's aunt," she said. "She can be here for no good reason. Please stay with me, for I do not think that I can face her alone."

"Of course, Lizzie," Jane just had time to say, before the lady was announced.

Lady de Bourgh swept into the room, eyeing the sisters disdainfully. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet," she said, "I believe you know why I am here."

Elizabeth drew breath and straightened.

"Yes, I thank you. It is no small distance for a condolence call, but for relations such as we, what is 50 miles of good road?"

Lady de Bourgh started to answer, stopped and drew herself up haughtily.

"A condolence call? To you? What right have you to be in mourning for my nephew's death?"

"Were you not informed? I believe that the Times published an announcement just this morning."

"There are all manner of rumors about, but I believe you have no such claim to the name of Darcy, foolish girl. I have called upon you to order you to stop your pretensions to his name. You can be sure that his death will be investigated to the fullest, and I would advise you, for the sake of your family, to cease any practices that might lead to the necessity for unpleasant action against you."

"Lady de Bourgh, I can show you the marriage license and certificate issued by the vicar of the parish of St. Peter Port. And I can call upon the testimony of Captain Newbury, who was witness to our marriage, and who was present at Mr. Darcy's death. I believe his ship, the Spaniel, is based in Portsmouth."

"Obstinate girl! Have sense, what claim can you have to a name so ancient in history and honor? With some far-off ceremony and a sailor's say-so? Unbelievable gall!"

Elizabeth's eye wandered toward the door, where James was attempting to draw her attention.

"Mr. Darcy, ma'am," he announced.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth cried.

"Mrs. Darcy," he greeted her.

Lady Catherine stared, pale and incredulous as her nephew strode over to his wife and took her hands. He looked deep into her eyes.

"My deepest apologies for alarming you, Mrs. Darcy. I hope that my delay was not too inconvenient for you."

Elizabeth knew not what to say, and Darcy turned to Jane, who was close by her sister's side.

"Miss Bennet, might I have the pleasure of greeting you as a brother?"

Jane gave her his hand and murmured her greetings. Darcy then turned to his aunt.

"Lady Catherine, I thank you for coming to call on my bride, even, as you see, it will happily be a call of congratulations rather than condolence."

For once, Lady Catherine was at a loss for words. Darcy turned back to his wife.

"Mrs. Darcy, might I have the honor of being presented to your mother and father? I feel it is long overdue that I do them a son's respect."

Elizabeth blinked hard, decided firmly not to faint and took his proffered arm. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Lady Catherine, you will excuse us." The newlyweds quit the room, followed by Jane.

Lady Catherine sat abruptly, her world spinning about her.

The news of Lady Catherine and Darcy's arrival had drawn the family from their morning's pursuits, and they stood together in the entry way, silently watching the Darcys approach.

"Mama, Papa, my husband, Mr. Darcy."

Bows and curtsies were exchanged and Mrs. Bennet spoke.

"Mr. Darcy, it is so good to see you alive and well. I am so glad Lizzie was mistaken, you have no idea of the grief we all felt at the news of your death. And I am so glad you have married our Lizzie. I am sure you will make her the happiest woman ever."

Darcy gravely thanked her, then turned to Mr. Bennet.

"Mr. Bennet, I believe that we should speak privily." Mr. Bennet concurred and the two retired to his study. Darcy pressed Elizabeth's hand as he left, and she felt a great stirring within her. The ladies and Mr. Gardiner retired to the sitting room, where they watched Lady Catherine quit the house and return to her carriage without a word to the family.

"I daresay she is a fine looking woman," Mrs. Bennet ventured. "It was so good of her to make such a drive for a condolence call. And for her to have the happy news that Mr. Darcy is alive, fortune indeed smiled on her."

Elizabeth repressed a grim smile, looking at Jane.

Mrs. Bennet chattered happily about the new Mrs. Darcy's prospects and the joy and wealth it would bring to their family, unfettered now by early widowhood. Elizabeth sought to occupy herself once again with her embroidery, but could not keep her mind from what must be transacting in her father's study.


	18. The Business at Hand

"Mr. Darcy, I realize that the combined results of early love and the shame of elopement must be very great indeed, but do you truly intend to go through with all this? The rest of your family must voice strong objections to these plans when they hear of them."

Darcy looked up from the letter he was finishing.

"Mr. Bennet, I mean to do nothing less than what I have proposed. It is my resolution and I will not be swayed, either by you or any of my relations."

"Unless I am very much mistaken, it was not a condolence call your aunt Lady Catherine called to make upon my daughter this morning."

Darcy's lips tightened and a look of fierceness came upon his features.

"Perhaps not, but you can be assured, my dear sir, that I will not suffer my aunt to interfere in the slightest with my gifts to my wife's family. I will ensure that she sees that it is in her own interest to comply rather than hinder."

Mr. Bennet shrugged and easily surrendered the point.

"Thank you, Mr. Bennet. Now our first move must be to announce the marraige —"

"Ah, I have you there, Mr. Darcy. It is already done, the announcement was in the papers this morning."

Mr. Bennet produced a copy of the Times, folded to the very page, and proudly displayed it.

"I see, thank you again, I suppose it was this information that occasioned my aunt's call upon my wife this morning." He looked it over. "It seems correct, except insofar as I am not dead."

Mr. Bennet gasped in embarrassment. "Indeed, sir, you are not. That shall be remedied directly."

"The announcement, I hope you mean, sir."

Mr. Bennet chuckled.

"That I do, sir. Losing you once was hard enough upon my daughter. I do not think that early widowhood suits her whatsoever."

Darcy looked at him intently.

"I am sorry for her suffering, and what you suffered on her behalf."

"Think nothing of it, my good sir. You were deceased at the time."

At this, Darcy very nearly smiled.


	19. Confessions

Darcy quitted Mr. Darcy's office and handed James a stack of letters to be posted, then took himself to the sitting room. Elizabeth's gaze fell upon him as he entered.

"Mrs. Bennet, may I have your leave to take a turn about your lovely grounds with my wife?"

Mrs. Bennet could not give her permission quickly enough, and the two were soon strolling along the path. For some time, they walked in awkward silence, each not knowing what to say. Finally, Elizabeth could take the silence no longer. She stopped and turned to him.

"Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry that I did not save you from falling from the ship. I feel every pain that I did not do so, and I hope you can forgive me."

Darcy was all astonishment.

"Why, but there was nothing you could have done! Why should you feel it? It was my own careless clumsiness that sent me into the water."

"No, indeed. I saw you reach for me, and I thought for a moment that I could have saved you."

Darcy took her hands.

"I grasped for the rail. I would not have risked pulling you over with me. I could never endanger you."

Elizabeth colored and turned away, and Darcy continued.

"It is I who should apologize for my treatment of you. And that my carelessness hurt you. Your father said that you have suffered during my absence. I cannot say why you did not rejoice in thinking me dead, for you would have been perfectly excused to do so. But I am glad."

With her face still averted, Elizabeth told him that she had read his account of Wickham's treatment of Miss Darcy and had been mortified by how deceived she had been in the young officer's character.

"He is expert in such deception, as I'm afraid all too many people will discover to their own detriment."

Darcy attempted to look at her face, which attempts she confounded.

"Please, will you not look at me?"

She continued to look down.

"I cannot. I know not what to think, what to feel. I am all confusion."

Darcy put a finger under her chin and guided it up so that he gazed into her face.

"My dear Mrs. Darcy, I cannot blame you for any hard feelings you have toward me. I have treated you in an unforgivable manner. I only hope to be able to show you that I can do better, and will do better."

Elizabeth began to cry and hid her face once more.

Soon after they returned to the house, Darcy excused himself and took himself to Netherfield, where Bingley had just returned.

"Darcy!" Bingley embraced his friend. "You cannot think what I felt when I heard you had been lost at sea. And so soon after I received your letter about Miss Bennet. It would been a cruel joke on me indeed if I could never discuss it with you."

"I'm afraid that I will have much to make up for, but I am glad that at least one person is glad to see me among the living."

Bingley started.

"Do you mean none of the Bennets were glad to see you?"

"It could not be but a mixed blessing to them, to be sure."

"Darcy, you are too hard on yourself. They must have been shocked when you and Miss Elizabeth ran off — I dare say there was no one who was not shocked — but it is still a most eligible match for their daughter. How could they object to that, or to you?"

Bingley grinned and hit his friend on the shoulder.

"And so, congratulations, man! Married to Miss Elizabeth. What a match for you, she'll be sure to keep you on your toes. Not handsome enough to tempt you, indeed! She proved handsome enough, right there, old man?"

Darcy let Bingley sit him down and pour him a drink. He could not wholly resist the cheering influence of his friend's demeanor.

"Might I trouble you to have your man fetch my luggage from Longbourn, Bingley?"

"No trouble at all, but aren't you staying with the Bennets? You a newly married man." But he promptly called a servant and gave the order. As soon a the man had quitted the room, Bingley sat down next to Darcy, all concern.

"What is it, Darcy? Will you not tell me what's the matter? You know I'm delaying my own call on Miss Bennet on your account."

Waving away Darcy's admonishments to go about his own courtship, Bingley insisted on being of service to his friend.

"After all, I'll never be able to repay you for the look on Caroline's face when we heard about your elopement. I swear she's had her cap set at you for years, and to have the prize snatched away — it was priceless."

Darcy sighed and took a drink.

"First, Bingley, you got my letter and are renewing your addresses to Miss Bennet?"

"Of course. If you and Louise — and Caroline — hadn't been so dead set against it, I would have proposed by last Christmas and the banns would have already been read. I've never met a sweeter, more wonderful girl."

Darcy smiled.

"I'm glad of it. I was terribly wrong to persuade you otherwise."

"I'd say I was surprised to hear you admit it, but on a day when you rise from the grave, I'd have to say anything is possible."

Darcy gave a ghost of a laugh at that, but his smile soon faded.

"Bingley, I have a confession to make to you, for I need your counsel and you cannot give it without knowing the full circumstances of my elopement with Miss Elizabeth. But I fear you will hate me after."

"Don't be ridiculous, Darcy. I could never hate you."

"Wait until you hear my full story, and then you may tell me that."

"Darcy, I would not have believed it of you! I do confess to being shocked."

Darcy looked pale but unshaken.

"Of course you are. My behavior was reprehensible. I cannot imagine that she will ever forgive me."

"It would serve you right if she did not. And when she had already refused you. My God, man, perhaps your getting knocked into the Channel was no accident. Are you sure she didn't shove you in?"

"I deserved nothing less," Darcy admitted.

Bingley paced in short strides, and Darcy was disheartened if not surprised to witness his disapprobation. Bingley turned to him.

"I should throw you from this house this instant, but I suppose you must stay in Hertfordshire to finish your arrangement with the Bennets. You do intend to do something to their benefit?"

On slightly firmer ground, Darcy outlined his plans. Bingley was pleasantly shocked at his friend's generosity.

"You need not worry about a dowry on Jane's account. I don't need any such inducement to marry her."

Darcy smiled wanly.

"I never though you would." Bingley began pacing again.

"This is all very well, but I do not think money will be sufficient inducement to win Miss Elizabeth's forgiveness. Even I know her too well to think that."

"I know, Bingley. That was the least of it, fulfilling a promise made. But what shall I do? Do I accept that my wife will hate me forever?"

"I don't know, old man, I've never gotten a woman so angry at me. How could you have done it? How did you persuade your servants to take part in it?"

Darcy shook his head, pressing his lips together in mental pain.

"Has she said anything about it since?"

"How could I bring it up? We have avoided each other almost entirely since then, except for two dinners with others, the wedding itself and a walk yesterday." Darcy related the particulars of his talk with Elizabeth.

"She thought she could have saved you? My God, man, you don't deserve her."

"I know it."

"It sounds that she is being perfectly honest with you. How could she know what to think of you? On one hand, generosity, on the other —"

"But what am I to do? Shall I make her an allowance and leave her with her family? Install her in Pemberly and keep to town? Install her in town and keep to Derbyshire? Try to live with her at Pemberly?"

"I can't imagine she'd be happy in town, being snubbed by Caroline and who knows else. Has she expressed a preference?"

"No, and it does not seem right to put the weight of such a decision on her. I see no good options for either of us."

"You have a point there. Listen, why don't you give her those choices and see what she makes of them? She has a level head on her, you know."

"That's true. Thank you."

"It's not much of an answer."

"But it was more than I was able to decide upon to do."

Bingley clapped his friend on the shoulder and gave a sigh.

"I suppose you are suffering enough, and I shall merely have to sentence you to gaining Miss Elizabeth — that is, Mrs. Darcy's pardon — before I can pardon you myself."


	20. The Walk to Meryton

Elizabeth briefly busied herself in putting away her hastily modified — and now unnecessary — mourning gowns. Her mother was flittering about with great plans for Jane. Bingley's coming back into the country had the most uplifting effect upon her spirits which, combined with her apprehension of the rise in the family's estate that must come from Lizzie's connection to Darcy, gave her an nearly indecent satisfaction. It even allowed her to deal with Lydia's complaints about their forced restraint from the company of the officers with aplomb.

"Now, my dear Lydia, how can you complain about that when you know we will probably be soon in town. It wouldn't at all surprise me if you were to be presented at court, and then who knows what man might come your way? These officers will be nothing at all to you then. Better not to lead them on, my dear. You have much better things coming your way."

Lydia, who knew nothing of such things, was all disappointment and could share in none of her mother's anticipatory pleasure. With a pout she set herself at a writing table for the first time in anybody's memory and set herself to writing a letter. Elizabeth restrained herself from asking to whom, but when Kitty looked upon it, the two girls shared such giggles that Mary was forced from the room in a fit of propriety.

Jane and Elizabeth continued with their day's employments and were each pleased, though to different extents, by an afternoon call by the Netherfield gentlemen.

"Welcome, sirs. Please do come in, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, do be seated."

Elizabeth, who had overheard the removal of Darcy's belongings to Netherfield with mixed relief and worry, kept her eyes upon her work as Mrs. Bennet bent her attention toward her sons-in-law, both anticipated and realized.

When tea had been summoned and drunk and the weather admired in sufficient measure, Kitty proposed a walk into town. The gentlemen were quick to agree and the sisters, excepting Mary, were soon on the path into Meryton.

Lydia and Kitty, eager to be in town, quickly outstripped the others. Elizabeth, though desiring to keep pace with her sister and Bingley to avoid the awkwardness of being alone with Darcy, soon let the lovers trail behind, as they were obviously desirous of being together.

As soon as the pair had enough privacy to not hear their friends' voices, Darcy spoke quietly to Elizabeth, giving the options he had outlined to his friend. She colored and swallowed hard. Her mind spun with the possibilities, and she could not speak for some moments.

"Nothing need be decided now," Darcy hastened to say, though he deeply wished for some course of action to be settled on.

"But if we live apart, me at Longbourn and you at Netherfield, it will cause talk, Mr. Darcy. You cannot doubt that."

Darcy allowed that there would be talk, but likely nothing more than would already be occasioned by the circumstances of their marriage.

"I should go to town, both to be seen to dispel any remaining rumors of my death, and to speak to my sister. She will be most anxious for me. I greatly desire to introduce the two of you as soon as may be. I am sure that she will be very fond of you. It has been a burden on her to have only a brother."

Elizabeth admitted that she was as experienced a sister as one might wish to have bestowed upon one, which made Darcy smile gladly at her. At the sight, Elizabeth's heart raced and her hands twisted together, her fingers nervously working at the still-unfamiliar ring.

"I wish that you would not look at me that way, Mr. Darcy," she said.

"Why not?" he asked, astonished.

"That — that looks so much the way you looked at me when you proposed. It brings to mind such memories —" She faltered and was silent.

"Of course, Mrs. Darcy."

"I suppose that I shall some day be used to being called that," she said, looking up somewhat as they continued walking.

"I had always thought that it would be strange, that I would think that it could only mean my mother. But somehow it comes naturally to me, that it should be you —" he cut himself off, and they walked in silence for some time.

As they crested a rise, Elizabeth looked behind them to see Bingley and Jane walking, very slowly, arm in arm.

"Has he spoken to you of his intentions toward Jane?" she asked.

"He has, and I believe he means to propose very soon." Elizabeth sighed with pleasure.

"That is very well. I'm sure they will be very happy."

"You are sure your sister means to accept him?"

"I have no doubt. She has loved him since almost first they met."

"I am glad, then, and shall only be sorry for the delay that I occasioned." She felt a pang of mercy for his misery.

"It could be that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst might have convinced him on their own if you had held your silence, you know. You don't know that his discouragement was only your fault. And you did encourage him, at least recently. I thank you for that."

Darcy demurred at her thanks, but felt his spirits lift slightly.


	21. An Inappropriate Connection

At the edge of town they waited for Jane and Bingley to catch up, a business of more than a few moments. When they walked on, Darcy saw Lydia in a tete-a-tete with Wickham.

He strode forward in anger. Wickham caught the movement and stepped back guiltily, clutching a letter. Darcy was soon confronting the man while Elizabeth drew her youngest sister back.

Wickham looked at Darcy with an air of affronted innocence.

"Mr. Darcy. So good of you to notice me."

"Mr. Wickham, you will stay away from my wife's sister or so help me God —"

"What? What will you do, Mr. Darcy? What ruination will you visit upon me that you have not already done?"

Elizabeth was frightened of the pale fury of Darcy's countenance as he abruptly turned away from the man with a low oath. Wickham caught Lydia's eye and gave her a mock salute before sauntering away.

"Well, that was very unpleasant of Mr. Darcy," Lydia said to Elizabeth. "I daresay Wickham did nothing to deserve it."

"He deserved it and more," Elizabeth whispered urgently. "Please, Lydia."

"What?" her sister asked lightly. "We all know how dreadful Mr. Darcy was to poor Wickham. Are we supposed to make believe that we don't now that he's your husband?"

Jane begged her to be quiet as Darcy, who had re-composed himself, approached and apologized for the encounter.

"Miss Lydia, I am sorry for my interference, but I possess certain information regarding that young man which makes me know how terribly inappropriate a connection he is for any of my wife's sisters, or any respectable young woman."

Elizabeth, who could sense a pert remark coming, trod painfully on Lydia's foot, and the remark was lost in Lydia's pain and accusation.

All of the pleasure gone out of the afternoon, Kitty was quickly collected and the party began their journey back toward Longbourn.


	22. An Engagement Long Awaited

On the walk back, Jane gained quiet enough with Elizabeth to relate the product of her walk with Bingley. He has proposed, she had accepted and Bingley meant to apply for her father's permission upon their return to the house.

Elizabeth warmly congratulated her sister, feeling sorry for the scene in town that should mar such a joyful occasion. But Jane seemed oblivious to any but the happiness she felt and that her announcement would occasion.

Elizabeth looked to where Bingley was walking with Darcy, just as Darcy looked back at them. There was such painful warmth in his eyes that mercy overwhelmed her, and she quickened her pace to walk alongside him. Jane took Bingley's arm and the two were soon immersed in each other's company. By fits and starts, Darcy offered her arm and, in the same way, Elizabeth accepted it.

Darcy furiously tried to strangle the hope that was arising in him, mercilessly telling himself that her present solicitude was due only to Jane and Bingley's happy news and that it had nothing to do with him. But the look she had given him as she had taken his arm put all his nay-saying to naught.

It was disturbing to him to find himself so wholly in her power. His wife's smallest look or gesture could send him into transports of joy or the blackest gloom. His regard for her that had prompted his proposal seemed nothing to the tremendous affection he now felt. He wondered how much she perceived of this.

Lizzie watched Jane and her fiance with great happiness and a little envy for the uncomplicated regard of their connection. She looked up at Darcy and, seeing a hint of a smile on his face, asked for his reaction to her sister's news.

"I have nothing but the purest joy for your sister," he said. Then, looking down at her, "You must know that."

"I do now," she said archly. "But I would not dare assume anything about your character without asking of it to you. You have complexities that my previous sketches never dreamed."

She was satisfied to see him blush.

Mr. Bennet was applied to and duly gave his blessings to Jane and Bingley. Mrs. Bennet received the news with all the exclamations and ill-considered joy that the elder sisters could have feared.

"Oh Lizzie, it's too bad you and Mr. Darcy are already married or you and Jane could have a double ceremony. But perhaps it is just as well. A bride should always be the most beautiful creature in the room, and Jane does so overshadow you."

Jane and Elizabeth blushed at their mother's vulgarity when it was before one or other of the gentlemen, and attempted to moderate her without success. The Netherfield gentlemen were invited for dinner, and then back for breakfast, and Elizabeth found herself pleased that Darcy accepted. She found his silent complicity during her mother's raptures welcome, the occasional meeting of their eyes a source of amusement and rapport.

After breakfast Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet again retired to business, while Bingley went back to Netherfield. Elizabeth and Jane went into the garden to pick herbs and to discuss Jane's wedding. Lydia was, uncharacteristically, by herself, pacing at the edge of the shrubbery. But Lizzie put her out of mind and devoted herself to her older sister. Jane said that Bingley was so impatient to make up for the delay of last year that the wedding would be in but a month. He had gone to the church to deliver the banns that very day.

Jane was determined that the wedding should be simple and reflect well on the family's taste. Her mother was determined that it should be otherwise, and burdened her daughter with grand plans that suited neither Jane's nor Bingley's tastes. Elizabeth was determined to help her sister have a wedding in accord with her own good taste.

To make things more difficult, they had heard that Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, as well as Miss Darcy, would be arriving at Netherfield soon. Elizabeth dreaded the inevitable interview with those proud ladies, as well as the unknown but presumably haughty Miss Darcy.

Darcy quitted the house, and saw his wife and her sister consulting among the flowers. Her happy smile pierced him deeply, and he moved to avoid disturbing the chatting pair, coming by chance across their youngest sister. Lydia, startled, fled toward the house. Disturbed to have upset the girl, Darcy turned to go, but his eye was caught by a scrap of paper. Scrawled on it in an eerily familiar hand was one word, "Tonight."


	23. A Plan Foiled

Mr. Bennet glowed with the secret knowledge of the comfortable wealth coming to his family all through dinner. It was the relief of many years' occasional worry and guilt over his daughters' states, and to be on the verge of announcing dowries for the three youngest and the resolution of the entail of the estate brought him into such a state as neither wife nor daughters had ever seen him.

Bingley was also in high spirits, admiring his fiancée to the exclusion of all else. Only Darcy seemed pensive, and Elizabeth thought he regarded her youngest sister with more than usual attention. Perhaps, she worried, he was considering what poor character possessed the sister of his wife. This thought nagged at her, but nothing could spoil the spirit and solicitude of the evening, not even Mary's sometimes pointed comments on the unnecessary frippery of modern nuptial rites.

Lively talk between Bingley, Mrs. Bennet and Jane on the subject of the wedding kept the family up late, and the evening was well progressed before the party broke up and Darcy and Bingley headed back toward Netherfield.

Jane joined Elizabeth as they prepared for bed, and Lizzie was glad to bask in her sister's incandescent joy. They had just agreed for the third time that it was time to be getting to sleep when they heard a loud cry from just outside the house.

On arriving at the road, Darcy had feigned trouble with his horse and sent Bingley ahead alone.

"Tis nothing, I'll catch up in a moment."

Once his friend was out of sight, Darcy quietly tethered his horse to a tree and circled around the back of the house and concealed himself. He had not long to wait. He could see Lydia staring intently out of her window, warmly clad and happily anxious. The spilled candlelight then revealed Wickham, who approached with a ladder in hand and in a moment was ascending the side of the house.

"Oh, my dear Mr. Wickham," Lydia cried, throwing open the window and preparing herself to descend.

"Stop!" cried Darcy, stepping into the light and seizing the foot of the ladder. Wickham looked down to see his old enemy, and sneered, "Darcy, what are you doing here, you old hypocrite?"

Darcy wrenched the ladder and Wickham fell to the ground. Lydia screamed.

Darcy strode over to the scoundrel and flipped him over onto his back. Winded, he moaned pathetically. Soft mud caked his clothes and face, and his hands flailed at his opponent. Darcy assured himself that the knave was not mortally harmed, and looked up to see James and Mr. Bennet, a stout stick in hand, approaching.

Mr. Bennet sized up the situation in a moment, then addressed himself to the muddy man.

"Well, Mr. Wickham, I don't recall having given permission to you to court my Lydia. What is this, then?"

Wickham, still unable to speak, moaned weakly. Mr. Bennet grinned and tapped Wickham's chest with the stick, then looked up at Darcy.

"I daresay he had high hopes of helping himself to daughter and dowry, both, eh, sir? But you foiled him. I thank you."

"It was my duty, sir. If not for my connection to your family, he would not have had the motivation to act so."

"I suppose so. But it was uncommon clever, winkling this out before it came to some desperate pass. You shall have to tell me how you did it, over a glass of wine sometime. But now I suppose we should dispose of Lydia's lover here."

At this he looked up at the window, where his youngest had disappeared but Mary was looking down with disapproval.

"Mary, dear, are Lydia and Kitty secure?"

"They are both here, father. But this is very troubling, and has disturbed my reflections for the evening." Mr. Bennet chuckled.

"I'm sure your sisters are yet more troubled, my dear. Ask Jane and Lizzie to keep an eye on them while we sort out this young jack-nape."

"Yes, father," she said pettishly, and closed the window.

Mr. Bennet sent James for a wheelbarrow, and he and Darcy stood for a moment, regarding Wickham while he recovered his breath.

"What nerve you have," he snarled at Darcy when he finally regained the power of speech. "After your infamous elopement, to object to anyone else doing the same. I always knew you for a foul hypocrite."

Darcy forbore speech, and held an angry silence until James returned with the barrow. The three none too gently flung Lydia's suitor onto it, and James trundled it out to the Meryton road.

Mr. Bennet clapped Darcy on the shoulder.

"That's a good night's work. I'll set a watch on the house in case he tries to come again, but I think the girls will serve as watchmen for some time to come. I'm afraid that I might have to put Lydia in irons until she's safely married or else risk a repetition of this night's events, and we can't always expect to have you on hand. Come, let's have a brandy."

Darcy politely refused.

"Bingley will be wondering where I am, I told him I would not be far behind."

And indeed, he found his friend waiting up for him, and found some pleasure in relating the adventure.


	24. Kindly Thanks

Lydia appeared at breakfast the next morning, red eyed and pouting.

"I don't see why I should not get to elope. Lizzie eloped and no one has had a bad word for her."

Her mother warmly remonstrated her.

"Lizzie was not marrying some penniless orphan, Lydia. She was marrying a man of very good fortune, indeed." At this she smiled joyfully at her now-favorite daughter, who lowered her face and blushed. Mrs. Bennet turned her attention back to her youngest.

"You should thank Mr. Darcy, when you see him next, for saving you from such folly. Marry Mr. Wickham! When you could marry a man of nearly as great a wealth as Jane or Lizzie has managed."

Kitty was quiet and sullen, smarting under her elder sister's rebukes for her conspiring in the elopement. Mary was full of her usual moralizations, sprinkled with reminders to her mother that she would not care for a very rich husband.

"I believe that moral character is of much more concern to me."

Elizabeth quietly excused herself from them all, saying only that she felt the need for a long walk. Jane, who suspected that walk would be some three miles long, easily occupied her mother with wedding plans.

When Elizabeth presented herself at Netherfield, face flushed and petticoats again six inches deep in mud, her mind was still whirling. The servant escorted her to the sitting room, where Darcy was seated at a writing desk.

Darcy stared at his wife as she entered.

"Eliz — Mrs. Darcy, I did not know that I was to have the pleasure of your company today. I was planning to call later at Longbourn, but —" His stammering was ceased as Elizabeth crossed the room and laid her hand on his arm.

"Last night you saved my family from embarrassment. Why?" Darcy looked at her in wonder.

"I could see your sister's partiality for Wickham and would wish that miserable man on no woman as a husband. And I know how unhappy such circumstances would make you. How could I, then, refrain from preventing the event?"

She bent quickly and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she murmured. "You are very kind."

Darcy, overcome by her touch and nearness, reached up to embrace her, and she moved closer to him.

"So touching," a familiar voice mockingly called. The pair started guiltily and turned to see Miss Bingley, removing her gloves with short gestures, entering the room, followed by the Hursts.


	25. Volleys in the Parlor

Darcy stood, putting Elizabeth behind him, and faced the sour trio. His wife looked at her supposed former rival with shock that quickly gave way to a well-disguised disgust.

"Oh Eliza," Miss Bingley cried. "I have so longed to see you. You must tell me all about your little adventure across the Channel."

Mrs. Hurst, who seemed a little embarrassed at her sister's hostility, moved forward to take Darcy's hand.

"Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, let me offer you my congratulations." Darcy thanked her gravely, keeping an eye on Caroline, who stalked Elizabeth gleefully.

"Mrs. Darcy," said Caroline with a particular emphasis. "How surprised we all we to find out that the two of you had gone away together. I understand Colonel Fitzwilliam was absolutely perplexed." She stared at Elizabeth with a wide smile that did not touch her eyes. Darcy tensed at the threat implicit in her posture.

Elizabeth gently pushed out from behind her husband and approached Caroline.

"How good of you to come wishing us well, Miss Bingley," she said. "I'm sure that you can understand how seeming dislike may be the very soul of love, as opposed to complete indifference. Do not you think so?"

Caroline flinched at the return volley, but rallied her smile and started again.

"Will your sister, dear Jane, be performing a similar exploit with my brother? Your family may make elopements quite the fashion this season."

Elizabeth smiled wanly and said that arrangements were apace to hold the ceremony in the church at Meryton.

"What a shame that they will have to wait so long, all of a month," Caroline smirked. "You two were much wiser, I'm sure. Indeed, if you had waited for your aunt's approval, Mr. Darcy, you may never have been wed at all."

Mrs. Hurst had been prodding her husband into action to break the uncomfortable tension that was building in the room, and he staggered forward.

"So what's this about your being drowned, Darcy? Never heard anything like it. But here you are, not even wet."

Darcy gave an abbreviated version of the events aboard the Spaniel, enough to satisfy Mr. Hurst, anyway, who used the interval to help himself to Bingley's brandy.

Servants carried luggage through the corridor, and Darcy peered out.

"Is my sister with you?" he asked Mrs. Hurst. She told him that the colonel would be bringing Miss Darcy shortly.

Caroline took the opportunity to seize Elizabeth's arm and spirit her a few feet away, bracing her for details about her marriage. She answered only with a smile before breaking away.

"Mr. Darcy, I'm sure we don't want to keep our friends from settling in. I'm sure they must be exhausted from the road." She quickly went to Mr. Darcy and they headed for the door. "But we will so look forward to seeing you sometime before the wedding," she called as they headed out the door.

"Well done," said Darcy.

"My pleasure," she replied, smiling grimly.

Safely outside Netherfield, Lizzie looked up at her husband.

"I never thought before we left. Where shall we go?"

"I'll call for a carriage. We can think of a plan once we're safely away from Miss Bingley."

She could not help but smile and agree with this wise course of action. They took the precaution of waiting near the stables, confident that Caroline would come nowhere near.

"I should never doubt that you are equal and more than equal to any of that woman's malice," Darcy said, once the carriage was ordered and they stood behind the cover of a tree to await it.

"She is bitterly disappointed, I think," she replied. "She was passing sure of you."

"That she should not have been. It has been nearly a year that my heart has belonged only to you." Elizabeth blushed.

"I think her plans were formed well before that," she said, stepping back a bit and looking around. Darcy, alarmed, looked about, but saw no one, and looked back to her, puzzled. She blushed again.

"No, I saw no one. It is only —"

"What is is, my love?" he asked, concern writ on his face. She blushed again.

"It is — strange — for me to be alone with a man." She looked up at him, a bit chagrined. "I am not used to it. It is hard to imagine that I should ever be used to it, though I daresay other women have managed."

It occurred to Darcy that they had not been in a carriage together since their hasty trip to Plymouth, nor truly alone since then.

"I am sorry, I did not think — Shall I order horses saddled instead?"

"No!" she said.

"I assure you, Bingley has some fine riding horses."

"I do not care to ride," she said softly. Darcy was mildly puzzled, but put it aside and addressed her solicitously.

"I would suggest that we walk, but you have already had a long walk today and I would not wish you to become ill with too much walking."

"I am quite rested. Why we do not walk for a time among the trees?"

Darcy concurred and let the groom know the carriage would not be needed. The pair walked into the woods.


	26. Together Alone?

Elizabeth and Darcy proceeded quietly for some time, she enjoying the cool moist green of the trees, he enjoying her company. At length, she said,

"I do thank you for saving my sister from disgrace. It would be too dreadful to have Mr. Wickham as a brother-in-law."

"I hope I have saved you from that fate, Mrs. Darcy. But seeing him covered in mud was really its own reward. Thanks are not necessary. "

"Covered in mud? Oh now I do wish I had not been so busy with Lydia. I should have liked to see that." Darcy promptly offered to re-enact the event for her pleasure, which she regretfully refused.

"I should write and tell Mrs. Romney of the encounter, she would enjoy it very much, I think."

"Her only regret might be not having pushed the ladder herself. She is a formidable woman."

"I fear you must reckon her quite the shrew, for she seemed to intimidate you greatly."

"I was of a mind to be intimidated on your behalf," he answered calmly.

"Oh, poor Mr. Darcy. At the mercy of all women everywhere."

"I shall always be at your mercy, Mrs. Darcy." They proceeded a bit further in silence, but Elizabeth's victory of words over Caroline had given rise to a great playfulness.

"Do you think you shall cease dancing altogether now that you are a married man? I recall that you have no great liking for the practice."

"I will dance as often as my wife will let me stand up with her, though I scandalize the company by dancing all the evening with my own spouse."

"For shame, Mr. Darcy," she remonstrated in mocking tones. "What will Lady Catherine de Bough think when such news reaches the hallowed halls of Rosings?"

Darcy said his aunt could think whatever she liked. They had reached a meadow and began to walk across it. Smiling, Elizabeth reached for his arm.

"And will you dance with me now, Mr. Darcy?" He looked surprised for a moment, then recovered and bowed deeply.

"I would be honored, Mrs. Darcy," and swept her into a tight waltz spin.

The ground was flat and grassy beneath their feet, and Elizabeth felt nothing but the press of her husband against her. He felt giddy with his daring, but trusting to his love's high spirits. They spun across the meadow, dancing to music playing only in their minds, entranced by each other's gaze.

A slight stumble on a mole hole cautioned Darcy, and he stopped, still holding her against him. She clung to him, her head still spinning with the motion.

"I heard a young scoundrel was thrown from Almack's for trying to introduce the waltz," she said.

"Well that he should, for it is a most inappropriate dance."

"Why is that, Mr. Darcy?"

"It makes dancers think thoughts best reserved for the marriage bed."

Upon reflection, Darcy thought a blush suited his wife very well indeed.


	27. More Sport in the Parlor

Caroline Bingley, who could find no satisfaction in the memory of her joust with the new Mrs. Darcy, contented herself with abusing her former rival's appearance and conduct to her sister while they awaited their brother's return from Longbourn.

"I daresay we interrupted quite a tête-à-tête," she said. "What do you think they mean by it, rutting like animals in the parlor while family is expected? It's nothing more than I'd expect from a Bennet, but you do think Darcy would have better sense. But I daresay he's coming down to her level so as to mingle well with her family.

"And her dress! Do you think she takes every opportunity of rolling in the dirt? I don't suppose you saw if Mr. Darcy was similarly besmirched?"

Mrs. Hurst allowed that she had not. Miss Bingley walked agitatedly about the room, recalling all that she could of the wildness of the Bennet clan and every particular of uncouth or inelegant behavior on the part of Eliza. Her sister could not help but remarking,

"You must be so relieved, at discovering how poor Mr. Darcy's taste truly is, to have escaped from him yourself.

"Oh, infinitely relieved," Caroline said, poorly concealing a pout. "But he may not have been so bad before she sank her claws into him. Some men become so eager to please their brides, you know, that they'll sink to anything. But maybe Mr. Wickham had more of an influence on Mr. Darcy than we had previously suspected. And we know how badly his character is esteemed. I heard a rumor as we were passing through that village that Wickham somehow disgraced himself publicly only last night. I can't bear to think of what the escapade might have been. Do you think he tried to fight Mr. Darcy for the love of Elizabeth Bennet?"

They both laughed at the image, and were still laughing when Bingley, who had received word of his sisters' arrival, entered. He greeted them cordially, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"Congratulations, Charles. Jane must be so pleased," Caroline greeted her brother. "But I always said she was a sweet, sweet girl."

"Do you think you'll keep her much in the country, or will we have the pleasure of seeing her in town?" Louise asked, her eyes glinting with secret mockery.

"You've just come from Longbourn, haven't you? How are you enjoying the company of your dear mother-in-law?" Caroline asked without the bother of having waited for him to reply to her sister's query. Bingley looked between them both with increasing desperation to divert them.

"Yes, well, I daresay Mrs. Bennet is —"

"And how is Mrs. Darcy faring? Has she quite recovered from her nautical dealings? Were you vastly shocked to hear of it?"

Bingley gave way to panic. Pointing out the window, he cried,

"Is that a covey of quail? My God, I've never seen better conditions for shooting. You'd better tell Mr. Hurst. We should go this moment."

He darted from the room. The sisters blinked at each other in astonishment.

"Well," said Louise at length. "I don't think he seems happy at all, being engaged. Do you?"

"Tell me again, what did you think of Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Georgiana inquired of Colonel Fitzwilliam. The Darcy carriage was pulling near Meryton, and though he had been enlightening his cousin on the subject for many miles, he started afresh, to her delight. Mrs. Annesley listened dully to the talk. She was sensitive to the motion of the carriage and was fighting the indecorous sensations it created within her.

"Very pretty, very sensible and witty," he said, leaning back against the cushions. "In height a shade shorter than yourself. In music she was very accomplished, but you know how little I know of scores and pianofortes and such, so I shall leave that to your own perception."

"And do you think her family is so very poor as Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst said? That they are so very nearly destitute?"

Fitzwilliam considered the question.

"It seems likely to me that Mr. Bingley's sister's, being so used to a very comfortable style, would see them as poorer than they are. I saw nothing very rich in Miss Elizabeth's garments or effects, but she strikes me as a woman of simple tastes. She is terribly fond of very long walks. And there is not much sense in wearing rich clothes to walk in."

Georgiana considered this intelligence.

"I suppose it will not matter if she was poor, for she is my sister and Darcy's wife now. Oh, how I wish I could have been at the wedding."

The colonel's attention was diverted by a large, ugly wagon that was lumbering toward them, taking up more than its share of the narrow roadway. He called to the driver to take care to divert around, and as he did, saw that several men were bound in the back of the cart. He was astonished to recognize Wickham, though in regimentals and smeared with an uncommon quantity of dirt. As the cart passed them, he could not prevent Georgiana from glimpsing her former suitor, seemingly bound for debtor's prison, though Mrs. Annesley tried to block the view. Georgiana hid her face in her hands and wept. Her cousin soothed her.

"I am sorry you had to see that, Georgiana. But you know — and your brother always told you — that he would come to a bad end."

"But — did you see the chains Fitzwilliam? Chains! What an end for —" and here she broke off, unable to continue.

"There, now, dear cousin. He does not deserve your pity. It is not as if he's going to his death. He will be able to work off his debts and, one day perhaps, be able to face society again, a reformed man."

His efforts were slowly able to bring her about, and by the time they drew close to Netherfield, she was once again looking forward to greeting her brother and his new wife.


	28. Quail at the Thought

"Why did you drag me out into this damn near dark, Bingley?" Mr. Hurst asked irritably as they crested another bird-free hill. "You know it's no good for shooting this late in the day."

Bingley made a show of looking for game.

"I could have sworn I saw a fine flock of pheasants just over there," he said. "Come man, you're as fond of shooting as anyone. Let's find them."

Hurst hrmphed and hoisted his gun. "One more hill, Bingley, and if we don't find anything, I'm like as not to shoot you."

Bingley nearly invited him to do so, but again swore that there must be fine quail or pheasants or anything he liked just over the next rise. Luckily, the dogs did flush a few quail hastening for cover under a bush, and a few shots brought them a bag full of the small birds.

"You see," Bingley said as the servants hastened forward to secure their prey. "Dusk is a fine time for sport."

"It wasn't worth getting our boots on for, Bingley," he said.

"Well, then, let's look for some rabbit. If we bag two we could have lapin au vin for dinner tomorrow."

"That would go well," Hurst admitted, and the rabbiting dogs were brought forward and the men headed into the trees.

Elizabeth and Darcy had wandered far in their perambulations, speaking of nothing of importance, until they had perceived that they were near Netherfield's gates and night was falling. She worried aloud that her family might be concerned for her. Darcy, who was intoxicated with her ease in his presence and the magical aspect of their afternoon together, responded lightly.

"What, you did not wear them out with worrying about your every escapade, walking over the countryside alone, before you were 11 years old," teased Darcy.

"My father has enough confidence in my sense not to worry, but Mama —" At this, unwilling to criticize her mother, Elizabeth fell silent. Darcy took her arm.

"Never fear, we can be back to the house and then have you safe at Longbourn within a half-hour."

She smiled engagingly at him and they turned toward the house. A moment later, they heard gun-shots quite close by, and Elizabeth started in fear.

"What the devil?" Darcy swore, clutching Elizabeth to him.

At that moment, a carriage clattered into view behind them, just as Bingley and Hurst came through the trees, Hurst grasping a dying rabbit by its hind legs.

"Good sport, Bingley," Mr. Hurst cried, but fell silent as his eyes fell upon the shocked pair.

"Brother?" Darcy and Elizabeth turned to see the Colonel and his ward descending from the carriage.

"Georgiana," Darcy cried upon seeing his sister. She started forward to greet her brother. Bingley and Hurst had drawn near to greet the visitors, but just then the rabbit gave one last, great kick, spattering blood down Hurst.

"Wretched thing," he cried, holding it away from him. Georgiana, upon observing this, dissolved into loud cries, hiding her face in her gloved hands.

A servant hastened forward to take the rabbit from Hurst, and he started back with him, unsure, but thinking something he had done had upset the young lady.

Darcy reached his sister and began to comfort her.

"It was only a hare, dear Georgie, why should you be upset? Here now, it's nothing to cry about." Georgiana sputtered through her tears. "It — oh, I am so silly," she said, weeping freely.

Elizabeth, who had been just behind Darcy, moved forward to help. The colonel drew near her and whispered of what they had seen of Wickham, for he correctly assumed that this was the real cause of his cousin's distress. Concealing her own shock at this report of Wickham's unhappy circumstances, Elizabeth judged a distraction the thing.

"Miss Darcy," she said, moving to greet her sister-in-law. Georgiana caught sight of her and a quick glance up to her brother confirmed that this was the object of his affections.

"Miss Bennet — I mean, Mrs. Darcy, how do you do?" She eagerly reached for Elizabeth's hand. The owner of that hand greeted her warmly.

"I hardly know which to call myself, so it is no wonder when others have trouble. I expect it will be some years before Mr. Darcy's friends think of Mrs. Darcy as anyone but your dear mother."

Georgiana smiled, liking her instantly. The colonel, who had been quietly conferring with Bingley, invited the pair to join them for the short ride up the house. They accepted with thanks, and Bingley said he and Mr. Hurst would join them once they were once again presentable. The colonel greeted Darcy enthusiastically, and his cousin returned the attentions with equal fervor.

Ensconced in the carriage, Elizabeth brought all her powers to bear to entertain Miss Darcy, which did not prove difficult.

"Netherfield has a very fine pianoforte," Elizabeth said, smiling warmly at her sister-in-law. "I shall be very glad to hear you play it, for I have heard your musical talents praised most highly."

Georgiana demurred, but Elizabeth persisted. The colonel could do nothing to help his cousin.

"She will not be a harsh critic, for she spoke very slightingly of her own talent at Rosings," he said, casting a sly eye at Darcy. Georgiana, who caught this while trying to evade Elizabeth's praise, looked wonderingly from one man to the other. Fitzwilliam smiled and described the incident: Elizabeth's revelation about Darcy's shocking behavior at the assembly room and the resulting speech regarding practice.

"Brother, you have trouble speaking to strangers, too?" Georgiana asked, incredulous.

This brought them to the house, and there they found Bingley's sisters waiting for them.


	29. A Mischevious Plan

Bingley had ordered dinner to be served shortly after he arrived back at the house, and the parlor was filled anticipation of the event. Elizabeth had excused herself to repair the damage a day of walking had done to her appearance, as well as to send a note to her family explaining her long absence, and Darcy and his cousin were left to the tender mercies of their hostess and her sister.

"Dear Georgiana," cried Miss Bingley, "Whatever could have kept you on the road for so very long? We expected you to arrive only moments after we did. You kept us in terrible suspense for ever so many hours." Georgiana apologized softly.

"I have so little idea of what Mrs. Darcy might like that I had very much difficulty in choosing a bridal gift for her."

"Dear girl," Mrs. Hurst remarked. "You are so thoughtful."

"But you needn't have spent so much time on it," her sister reprimanded lightly. "You know she cannot be used to much, and so should appreciate anything really."

Georgiana could only murmur, ashamed and confused by Caroline's thinly veiled hostility.

Elizabeth re-entered the room only a few moments before dinner was announced, and the party seated themselves.

"Georgiana, do you intend to stay until Miss Bennet and Bingley are married? That happy event is still near a month away," Caroline asked archly. Georgiana looked up from her soup to Elizabeth.

"It does not seem so very long, as I am looking forward to making the acquaintance of my sister-in-law."

Elizabeth smiled warmly at her, and Darcy felt a powerful emotion within him as he beheld their dawning friendship.

Caroline turned from the subject with some distaste and began speaking of the pleasures of London with her sister. They had removed to Netherfield to avoid the expense of maintaining themselves in town, but the disobliging manners they were unhappy to receive made Miss Bingley begin to agitate for an early return. And now that Darcy was no longer eligible, there was nothing in the country to keep her. Mrs. Hurst, who had no such draw to town, was happier to remain for the sake of expenses, but disliked seeing her sister so painfully wishing to be gone.

With these pressing thoughts, Caroline seized on an old bone.

"Bingley, can you see how much Miss Darcy has grown since last we met? I daresay she is a woman grown now. Lady Catherine must be eager to see you married, and married very well. Has she picked a suitable husband for you yet? You must take some trips back to London, if you will insist on being here for a month entire. The scene is so lively that I wonder you can pull yourself away. Bingley, you will take her and Mrs. Annesley to town when you go next? I'm sure Miss Darcy cannot bear the thought of being from town so long."

Bingley admitted that business for the swiftly approaching wedding would soon take him to town. Caroline pounced on the opportunity.

"Then we must go with you. I can help dear Miss Georgiana shop for wedding gifts, and you and I can hear her excellent playing on a proper instrument once again."

Elizabeth cast a worried look at Bingley, who had wilted into acquiescence under the barrage of his sister's demands. He returned her gaze with an apologetic and haunted look.

"Would Mrs. Darcy care to accompany us as well?" But Caroline leapt once again.

"Oh no, I'm sure she needs to stay here with her husband, and to help her sister with her wedding. You know how important it will be for Jane to have the help of her whole family. I can't imagine how she could have spared you for so much of today, Eliza. Your mother must be working her fingers to the bone without you."

Elizabeth rose. "Miss Bingley, how good of you to remind me of my sister's need. Mr. Darcy, would you be so kind as to escort me home? Miss Darcy, may I have the pleasure of seeing you tomorrow at Longbourn for tea? I would be very pleased to introduce you to my family."

"Oh yes, Mrs. Darcy, I will be most pleased to meet all of them."

Fitzwilliam promised to bring his cousin to Longbourn the next day, and the party broke up amicably, though not without some tension.


	30. Unintentional Conspiracy

"Oh Lizzie, you must invite her. I would so like to meet her, and what better occasion?" Jane asked. Elizabeth smiled at her sister, happy to see her favorite in such fine spirits. Their mother was, for the moment, distracted from meddling in Jane's wedding plans by ordering new gowns for herself and her youngest daughters, and in her absence the planning was advancing quickly. A large pile of finished invitations now awaited the afternoon mail.

"I would like to see Mrs. Romney again," Elizabeth admitted, toying with a fresh invitation. "And I long to introduce you to her. But it is such a journey, Jane, and I worry that Mr. Darcy does not like her and will not be civil."

"I do not think he will do anything to incur your displeasure," Jane noted pertly. Lizzie blushed. "My husband is, as has been noted, a man of strong opinions. I do not think he will consent to be overruled."

"My aunt Gardiner said that a wife triumphs over her husband by leading him to believe that the very thing that she wants is his idea," Jane said, addressing another envelope.

Elizabeth toyed with her pen for another few moments before quickly writing the invitation to Mrs. Romney.

"I will invite her, but I think that I will not convince Mr. Darcy that this is his idea," she said, smiling.

Mrs. Annesley walked a step behind her charge as they entered the gaming room. Darcy, cue in hand, was racking up a new game. The sound of their entrance caught his attention and he turned, set down the cue and bowed to his sister.

"Brother," she cried softly, seizing his hands.

"Good morning, Georgiana," he replied, affection softening his eyes.

"You're looking well. I think that being married agrees with you. Couldn't Mrs. Darcy stay here with us? There will be plenty of room if Caroline and Louise are going to town, and even if they come back," she said all in a rush.

A shadow of pain passed over his face. "I think that Mrs. Darcy is needed by her sister. A month is not a very long time to arrange a wedding, and we wouldn't want Miss Bennet to do less than well by Bingley, would we?"

Georgiana looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry, I was only thinking it would be nice to have her here. I would not want to deprive her sister of her help."

"It was a good and kind thought. I would be happier to have her here. But her sister needs her and it may help still wagging tongues if she and I live apart for some little time."

She looked up at her brother, and spoke after some silent trepidation.

"People are talking," she admitted. "When I was buying a present for her, I saw some ladies speaking, and stop when they saw me look. I am sure that they were speaking of your elopement. Now I truly see why you did not want me to elope, even if it were with a man better than Wickham." Her breath hitched slightly as she spoke the name of her former lover. She had believed that all her feelings were gone with the years, but seeing him in his degraded state had roused great feelings of pity for the man. She drew breath and continued.

"But I do not understand why the two of you could not wait for a proper marriage. Did you really think that Aunt Catherine would not let you marry her?"

Darcy sighed. He knew that his sister would have questions, but had hoped to evade them for longer. He drew her down to sit beside him on some of the chairs that lined the room.

"Even I can be foolish, Georgiana," he admitted. "I was afraid that Aunt Catherine would oppose me. And I was afraid of what Bingley's sisters might do. There are many who would not approve and might have been moved to obstruct our marriage. At the time, eloping seemed like the most sensible thing to do. I see now that it was not really fair to Elizabeth, nor her family. But at the time —" he broke off, then steadied himself.

"There is a lesson in this. When what seems like the only course of action is something that will hurt someone, or is opposed to your own character, perhaps one needs to take more time and think more thoroughly. Perhaps if I had been willing to take longer in our courtship, if I had done — certain things — with better judgment, perhaps things would have turned out better. But now I, and everyone else, will have to live with the consequences of my hasty actions."

Georgiana nodded, a small frown still on her face.

"May we go to visit her now?"

Darcy smiled. "Of course, we are expected. We shall take Bingley as well, if he hasn't beaten us there."

The Netherfield party arrived at Longbourn in the mid-morning. As they left, a servant confirmed that the Hursts and Miss Bingley had left for town. Georgiana alone was shocked that her friends had departed without taking their leave.

Elizabeth was pleased to introduce Miss Darcy to Jane, if somewhat less than pleased by her mother and sisters' manners. Georgiana presented Elizabeth with a large package of writing paper embossed with her new initials. Lizzie accepted the gift with pleasure, heartened by her sister-in-law's foresight. This paper would make certain upcoming correspondences much easier to negotiate, and she would have found it difficult to order it, herself.

Darcy swelled with pride, warmed by the sight of his wife's initials and his sister's thoughtfulness. He gazed with misty eyes at the scene of felicity, finding it easy to ignore his mother- and sisters-in-law and their noisy exclamations.

Elizabeth though that Miss Darcy seemed a bit overwhelmed by her siblings' enthusiasm and suggested a walk about the grounds. All the young people but Mary soon walked out, Mrs. Annesley making sure of her charge's bonnet before allowing her to venture forth. In no time Lydia was regaling the party with her tale of her aborted elopement with Wickham, ignoring both Jane's attempts to quiet her and Georgiana's shocked and distressed looks.

"But Mama tells me that I shan't regret Wickham long, that we shall go to town and I will have suitors aplenty." Lydia finally caught sight of Elizabeth and Darcy's attempts to soothe Georgiana, who had found herself surprisingly hurt by her former favorite's attentions to another. The sight of Miss Darcy brought another though bubbling forth.

"Miss Darcy, why have you not married? Your dowry must be better than even your brother is giving us. Or do you plan to be a rich old maid?"

Georgiana's face fell and her steps faltered. Lydia, oblivious, continued, "So, tell us of your rich suitors."

Georgiana fell to the ground, slipping through Mrs. Annesley's helping hands, sobbing Wickham's name helplessly.

"What?" Lydia asked as the rest of the party rushed to Miss Darcy's side. "What's wrong with her?"

"Mother, this is simply too much. How are we to focus on Jane's wedding if Lydia is causing hysteria at every turn?" Elizabeth snapped, pacing in her mother's room.

"I'm sure you make too much of it," her mother said indulgently, admiring her reflection while adjusting her new lace cap. "Miss Darcy seems like a delicate girl. It was probably as much the strain of the walk as anything else. You should have left her behind," she declared, adding another pin to her hair.

Elizabeth snorted in disgust, but unsurprised by her mother's tolerance for her youngest, pressed on.

"Mother, what if Lydia's behavior frightens Mr. Bingley away? What will everyone think if he abandons Jane because of her sister's terrible behavior? What chance will your daughters have for good matches then?"

Mrs. Bennet frowned slightly, and Elizabeth pressed her point.

"Would it be so terrible to send Lydia to school, to give her the polish that Meryton cannot offer her? She may not be there long, as I am sure someone nearby must offer for her soon. But she could have more helpful attention at school in London, and leave you more time to help with the wedding." Jane had insisted that Lizzie make that point, though the fulfillment of that inducement would bring much pain to both of the girls. Jane had felt it was too good a point not to make.

"I will have to speak to your father. I'm sure he will not wish to send Lydia away —"

"He has already consented, and said he thinks it will be best for her," Elizabeth hastened to point out. Her mother suddenly seemed on the point of tears.

"Send Lydia away? But you know how I will miss her. How we will all miss her. Send her away to some horrible school where no one cares about her? How could we do that to her?"

"It need not be for long," Elizabeth said steadily. "And I am sure she will enjoy the opportunity to make friends with young women of good breeding. Young women with wealthy brothers, who would be at liberty to move into the neighborhood if they happened to fall in love with Lydia."

Mrs. Bennet suddenly looked on the proposal with new eyes.

"That would be a fine thing for her," she said, considering. "I do not think any of the gentlemen of Hertfordshire are quite good enough for her. I would take her to town myself, but you know how London disagrees with my health."

Elizabeth leapt into the breech.

"Of course, Mama, you must not strain yourself. And, as I said, we would be happy to take care of all the arrangements, as you will be so busy with the wedding, not to mention handling the suitors for Kitty and Mary. You know that you must prepare for those." This importuning pained Elizabeth no small measure, but she could see no other way to convince her mother to give up Lydia for any time.

"Well, I suppose it would be for the best," Mrs. Bennet said slowly.

Elizabeth jumped up and headed to the door swiftly, before her mother could amend her assent.

"Thank you, Mama. And I'm sure Lydia will thank you as well," she said. "In time," she added after she closed the door.

Georgiana sat slumped on the couch in the Netherfield parlor. Her brother paced anxiously nearby, casting glances her way as Mrs. Annesley comforted her. She had not spoken since their hasty departure from Longbourn. Darcy cast his mind back to the hurried conference with his wife as they waited for the carriage, when Elizabeth insisted that her sister be sent away as soon as possible. She demanded his consent to her scheme at once, and Darcy had been startled by his immediate willingness to comply, though he did not in general approve of sending such a bad influence into the company of gently bred girls. Lydia had proved herself thoughtless, heedless and careless of the feelings of others. Darcy could hardly believe her sprung from the same parents as his love or her older sister, and wondered what chance in circumstance had led the younger girls to have such different characters than the elder.

Mrs. Annesley interrupted his musings. "I believe, sir, that we must return to more familiar surroundings, to London or to Pemberly, as soon as can be arranged. Miss Darcy has been violently upset."

Darcy thought upon the situation, and told the woman that he would make no decision without consulting his wife and Fitzwilliam, who was expected to return from a visit in two or three days. A trace of a smile visited Darcy's lips as he recalled how his cousin had suddenly remembered a long-obliged visit when he discovered how unpleasantly Bingley's sisters were behaving. He agreed to write Fitzwilliam to hasten his return, then urged Mrs. Annesley back to his sister, who seemed inconsolable.

Darcy was glad to sit down to the letter. He felt at loose ends here without Bingley, who had taken his chance to head off for a walk with his fiancee once the disquiet after Georgiana's collapse had quieted. The two would get few enough opportunities to be alone until their honeymoon, he reflected, wishing that he would have a chance to be with his wife. It seemed ages since their walk yesterday afternoon. As he handed the letter to a servant for immediate dispatch, Elizabeth burst through the doors. She gave him a fiercely triumphant smile, then turned her attention to his sister.

"My dear Miss Darcy, you must allow me to apologize for my sister's behavior," she said. "Her words must have seemed cruel, but she knew nothing of your prior attachment to that man."

Georgiana roused herself from her sunken state and addressed her sister-in-law dully.

"Of course, she would not have known, there is nothing to apologize for."

"Oh, she has plenty to apologize for," Elizabeth said, seating herself by the woeful girl. "And I promise you that she will learn to tender apologies. My parents have finally agreed to send her to school. We will make sure that she learns some sort of tact, however long it takes. She has run wild for far too long, and you are not the only victim of her ill speech."

Georgiana summoned a wan smile. "I did like school. I hope that she does well there."

"Oh Miss Darcy, she will have quite an experience. Now, let us forget her. Shall we have our walk that was so rudely interrupted? I assure you that Netherfield's grounds are much nicer than Longbourn's."

"And she would know," said Darcy, glad to be able to contribute something to the conversation. Elizabeth spared her husband a smile, and he felt his anxiety for his sister melt no small amount under the influence of that smile's warmth.

"It is good to have you here," Georgiana said, her words bringing the pair's attention back to the room. She slowly got to her feet and began to prepare to go out. As the four walked into the sunshine, she continued her thought.

"It seems so strange to me when you are not here. I am so sorry that your sister cannot spare you. It would be so wonderful to have you here at Netherfield with us."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy for a moment, then down toward her feet. Darcy came swiftly to her rescue.

"We must not be greedy," he chided his sister softly, patting her arm where he held it, then looking back toward his wife and catching her eyes. "No matter how we would like to have Mrs. Darcy with us."

Elizabeth blushed suddenly and found herself watching her feet once again. Georgiana observed her reaction wonderingly. They walked on. Miss Darcy confided to Mrs. Darcy that Mrs. Annesley wanted her to return to London or to Derbyshire.

"But you will miss so much," Elizabeth exclaimed. "And you only just arrived. And I just invited a wonderful woman to come to the wedding and to visit before. That is Mrs. Romney, who helped me before I married your brother."

Darcy did not let any expression show on his face, and knew that there was no way he would win this battle. Or any, he thought, in a combination of amusement and despair.

Mrs. Annesley was persuaded that Hertfordshire would suit Georgiana as well as anywhere. It was not so hard, as she did not want to face the rigors of the road again so soon.

After much screaming and it was settled that her youngest daughter would leave the day after next for an illustrious school for young women of status near London, Mrs. Bennet could not bear to have her favorite from her for a moment.

"Oh Lydia, how I shall I miss you. How will I ever do without you?"

"If I must go away, why cannot I go to Brighton with the regiment?" Lydia pouted, slumped on a settee in the sitting room, picking apart a bonnet that only yesterday she had declared perfection.

"You know this is all for the good," her mother declared airily. "You will make many new friends with fabulously wealthy brothers who will all fall in love with you in a moment. They will be much more eligible than any of the officers at Brighton.

"If it is so good, why aren't you sending Kitty and Mary away?" she asked, crushing a silk ribbon in her fingers.

"There are fine enough suitors for them here in the country, but where would we find a good enough gentleman for my Lydia but in town?" Mrs. Bennet asked, excitement lighting her eyes.

Lydia sighed elaborately and flung the hat onto the table.

"I know it's because Lizzie is afraid I'm going to offend Mr. Darcy. Why should she worry now that she's married him? Why did he have to bring that shrinking violet of a sister here anyway? And why haven't we got to meet his cousin, the colonel?"

Mrs. Bennet sighed.

After dinner Bingley returned to Netherfield and Elizabeth to Longbourn. Her mother was still sitting up and inclined to be peevish.

"Why bother coming back when it is too late to help your sister? You have might as well stay at Netherfield. Goodness knows there is room enough there, and we could use your room better. Things are a crush here with with your aunt and uncle Gardiner, and it will only get worse as the wedding draws nearer."

Lizzie felt nearly frantic.

"I cannot leave Jane now. And you cannot say I'm not helping her. We spent all yesterday morning writing invitations."

"Oh, I suppose," her mother said. "But you could help her just as well from Netherfield. And how strange it must look, living three miles from your newly wedded husband. Everyone will think you don't like him. Or he doesn't like you."

Elizabeth blushed and hastened to her room, where she found Jane waiting up for her.

"Are you truly sending Lydia off to school?" she asked.

"We must. We have to do something to moderate her behavior. I thought that she would have been humiliated by what happened with Wickham, but her headstrong nature seems unquenchable. I have long thought that such a desperate measure might be necessary, but it was never possible. Now we can and, I think, must send her away." Elizabeth shook off the unpleasant necessity. "Tell me, Jane, how is your Mr. Bingley?"

Jane blushed slightly. "Oh Lizzie, he is so wonderful. He makes me so happy. It is all like a dream. Though I do admit it would be more dream-like without Lydia making a scene of every quiet moment."

"Indeed," agreed her sister grimly. "And without our mother—" she cut herself off.

"What has mother been doing?" Jane asked with some concern. "Has she been bothering you about Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth looked at her with some surprise.

"Has she said anything to you?" Jane seemed to hesitate to reply until Lizzie encouraged her.

"She has hinted that she needs more room here and that you should go live with your husband," she said. "I understand why you might not care to do so, given what he did. But you do seem to care for him, Lizzie, and I can see that he adores you."

"I do care for him," she admitted slowly. "It began in Kent, I believe. He was... attentive. He began to show regard for my opinions and to solicit my society. At first I believed that it was merely from boredom, to avoid his aunt or to better show his disdain. If I had not believed as I did about Wickham..." she trailed off, consumed by her thoughts. After a few moments, she turned her gaze back toward her sister.

"Do you think I should go to Netherfield?" she asked solemnly.

Jane considered. "I would miss you, Lizzie. But I can see that you miss him, and I would not deprive you of your husband's company for my own selfish needs."

Elizabeth smiled. "You are the least selfish creature I know, Jane. Perhaps I will move to Netherfield. Good night, dear sister."

The next day brought a flurry of packing and arrangements for Lydia's removal to the school. Servants galloped with messages between the two households, for Elizabeth had decided to remain at Longbourn that day and Darcy did not want to leave his sister alone, nor bring her within range of Lydia. That young woman was doing her best to make her last day at home memorable with temper tantrums, outrageous demands and a combination of vicious attacks and declarations of lasting affection, these mostly aimed at Kitty or her mother, but sometimes at Jane or Lizzie in the hopes of soliciting some treat. Mary and her father she ignored.

By nightfall, her belongings — and some not hers — waited for the morning carriage and the family dined hastily and quietly before retiring.

Darcy had persuaded Bingley to stay to provide his sister with additional amusements. The afternoon found Bingley returned from the hunt and regaling the young lady with far-fetched plans for the estate's re-landscaping.

"And here will be the fountain with a granite sculpture of the prince regent," he said to her restrained giggles. As they began to walk again, Georgiana asked him, "Do you think it would be — would you mind if Mrs. Darcy came here?"

Bingley smiled at her. "Mrs. Darcy has been here near every day for a week."

"No, I mean, if she stayed here with us, with Darcy."

Bingley's eyebrows rose. "Of course I wouldn't mind. But she has not asked to stay here."

"Why hasn't she? When Darcy came back, why did she not move in here with them. They are married."

Bingley shifted uncomfortably. "Have you asked your brother this?"

"I did, and he said she must help Miss Bennet get ready to marry you."

"Well, there you go. I did insist of having the wedding awfully soon. It is less than a month now, you know."

"Yes, but does she need to stay there to help her? And is that all?"

Bingley again fidgeted and began to walk toward the house. "I cannot know what you mean, Georgiana." She gripped his arm to stay him and turn him toward her.

"I mean that everyone is hiding something from me. I can tell. It's like when father was dying and brother couldn't bring himself to tell me. But I'm not a child anymore. Charles, tell me."

Bingley wiggled his toes desperately inside his shoes, trying to see a way out of telling her the whole truth. He feared that the knowledge would taint her affection for her brother, and perhaps worse.

"I think that Darcy fears that if he and Mrs. Darcy live together here, people will say that they could not even wait until they moved properly to town or to Pemberly. I think that the way they started, their elopement, is making them even more cautious about propriety, and he wishes to make up for his recklessness."

"Yes, that is what he told me. But that's not the whole story. He pushed Wickam into the mud and made sure he was sent to debtor's prison, which is harsher than when Wickham tried to elope with me. He would not do so unless there was something very wrong, if he was very upset."

Bingley's nerve broke and he bolted toward the house, leaving Georgiana behind with a stricken look on her face.

"My God," she said. "I thought there was something. Brother, what have you done?"

"Mama? Mama! Lydia is taking all of my best frocks," Kitty cried, running into her mother's sitting room. Hill was helping Mrs. Bennet dress and looked reproachfully at the young woman who stood impatiently before her mother.

"Oh Kitty, you will be getting three new frocks next week. Let her have them. They are old things anyway."

"Mama, the blue frock is less than a year old and is my favorite. You know Mr. Sanderson said I was particularly handsome in it and I want to wear it to Jane's wedding. Make her give it back to me."

Mrs. Bennet collapsed into a chair and told Hill to remove the blue from Lydia's things before she left. "Now, please, have a care for my nerves."

Kitty ran before Hill, who frowned at leaving her mistress half-dressed but departed on her mission. Kitty nearly collided with Jane, who had emerged from her room late and showed signs of having stayed up much too late, straining her eyes by candlelight. Elizabeth stood at the base of the stairs and allowed Kitty to run by before turning her face toward her elder sister.

"Dear Jane," she said as her sister neared her. "If you insist on staying up so late, you won't be fit to be seen at your wedding. Do let me help more."

"Oh Lizzie," she said. "You are doing enough and more than enough. I cannot let you do more."

"We shall see. For now, shall we see Lydia off?" Jane smiled.

The carriage from the had arrived and Lydia was quickly packed into it. The coachman was deferential, yet implacable, and before Mrs. Bennet had gotten herself properly worked up, the carriage was pulling away.

"What shall we do without Lydia?" she cried, dabbing at tears and looking after her departing daughter.

"What will I wear until next week?" Kitty asked tearfully.

"I daresay we will all manage, one way or the other," said Mr. Bennet.

Mary said that she envied Lydia the opportunities for advanced learning, and on that note, the family went in to breakfast.


	31. The Calm After the Storm

"Mrs. Darcy has invited me to tea this afternoon," said Georgiana as she, Bingley and her brother finished their breakfast.

"What time shall I take you over, Georgiana?" her brother asked.

"I thought I would ride over on my own," she said. "The Bennet girls do so all of the time."

Mrs. Annesley looked scandalized, and spoke quietly but firmly to her charge.

"The Misses Bennet are more familiar with the countryside," Darcy said. "They have grown up here. What if you took a wrong turning?"

"Then I will take the carriage," she said. "But I will go by myself."

Mrs. Annesley begged Darcy to disallow this, but Darcy refused.

"It is only three miles," he said. "And the coachman will hardly become lost. I'm sure she will not lack for escort."

Mrs. Annesley frowned, but relented, and that afternoon found Georgiana climbing into the carriage by herself, elated at her new-won freedom. Darcy watched with Bingley as the carriage pulled away.

"I suppose she wants to visit with Elizabeth without me," Darcy said.

"I understand it is different, when it is just ladies," Bingley ventured. "Caroline once told me they speak more freely of certain things."

Darcy pondered this. "Do you think Elizabeth speaks differently of me when I am not there?"

"I think Mrs. Darcy always speaks her mind, whether you are there or not," Bingley said, smiling.

"Probably true, but Georgiana is not to know that, I suppose. I imagine that she might not be so free in her opinion when I am about."

"Ah, well. Yes," Bingley said uncomfortably.

"What is it, Bingley?" Darcy asked, shifting his attention to his friend. Bingley merely shrugged, but the look on his friend's face made it clear that he would not brook his silence.

"Yesterday Georgiana asked me if Mrs. Darcy could come to stay here. When I said that Mrs. Darcy preferred to stay with her sister for now, she became suspicious."

"Suspicious? What did she suspect?" Darcy asked anxiously.

"She said that you would not have done what you did to Wickham if you had not been upset about something. She said that something was wrong."

"Damn," said Darcy, staring at the road where the carriage had disappeared. "And now she has gone to ask her questions of Elizabeth."

"I'm afraid so," Bingley replied.

"I'm doomed."

"I'm afraid so. Brandy?"

Darcy nodded and they headed inside.

Elizabeth beamed as the carriage door swung open and Georgiana climbed out.

"Miss Darcy, welcome. I am so glad you could come," she said, smiling brightly at her sister-in-law.

"Mrs. Darcy, I thank you so much for inviting me," Georgiana answered carefully, brushing her skirt straight awkwardly. It was strange not to have Mrs. Annesley fussing over her.

"Please, do come in. Tea is ready," Elizabeth said encouragingly. She could see that the young woman was somewhat at a loss to be unaccompanied, and had been surprised not to see her companion or the colonel with her.

The two women walked into the house and made their way into the sitting room where Jane was sitting at her embroidery. Soon Elizabeth had poured and sandwiches had been offered, though Georgiana only nibbled while watching her sister-in-law with studious gazes.

Elizabeth felt her observation and wondered at it to herself. Was Georgiana wondering what had made her cautious brother run away with her? Elizabeth set her cup down and resumed her embroidery, one of a large stack of napkins to be monogrammed.

Jane assiduously stitched her own monogram while politely inquiring of Miss Darcy's ride from Netherfield.

"And by that, I assure you she means to ask how is Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth interpreted to Jane's modest blush.

"He seemed well," Georgiana said, watching the byplay between sisters intently over her cup.

"Miss Darcy, how do you find living in town?" Jane asked after a short silence.

"I have liked it very well," she answered. "Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst have been very attentive, and my brother writes and visits quite often to make sure I am attending to my lessons and that I have company enough. But London is not as pleasing as Pemberly."

"Our aunt has spoken highly of Darybshire," Jane noted.

Elizabeth's interest was piqued at the mention of that great estate and she found herself inquiring after it.

"Oh, it is lovely," said Georgiana. "I am sure you will like it," then stopped herself. "That is, of course, if you are going to come into Darbyshire."

Elizabeth assured her that Mr. Darcy planned for them to remove to Pemberly after they had visited Hertfordshire.

"But I allow that we are staying for longer than he thought. Who knew that there would be such a wedding afoot? And Jane had never embroidered her trousseau, although I told her to many a time."

Jane smiled at her sister. "I told you, Lizzie, I did not want to do so until I was engaged. You will remember Samantha Carpenter — now Mrs. Forrester, who stitched her things when she was 12 and did not marry until she was 19. Her aunt visited a week before the wedding, took one look at the sloppy workmanship and insisted that she pull out every stitch and redo it all. She burned though as many candles as you like and nearly fell asleep at the alter."

"I know," replied her sister. "And this way your embroidery is as fine as can be. Though I imagine you thought you would have more than a month to do it all in."

"Is this why Mrs. Darcy must stay at Longbourn? To help you with your trousseau?"

Jane ceased her needlework and looked at her sister with some surprise.

"Lizzie does not need to stay if she does not wish," she said. "But she has been of great help."

Georgiana seemed a bit ashamed at this response, but turned to Elizabeth.

"Do you not wish to be at Netherfield with us, and with my brother?" she asked with wide eyes. Elizabeth could not help but laugh.

"First Mama, now you, Miss Darcy. I might think that there was a conspiracy to pry me from Longbourn."

Georgiana looked down, now thoroughly abashed. "I had thought that my brother would be happier if you were living with him — with us," she said quietly.

Elizabeth smiled tenderly at her sister-in-law.

"You are so good, to think of his happiness so. He and I will live together, one day soon, I think. This has just been all so quick. It will take me some time to adjust to being Mrs. Darcy. And I cannot bear to leave my family again quite so soon."

She rose and walked to Georgiana, urging her up.

"Now, Miss Darcy, might I ask you to honor us by playing?" She guided her to the instrument in the nearby room. Though she protested gently, Georgiana could not wholly disguise her pleasure as her fingers found the keys. As the last notes faded and she rose, Elizabeth pressed her hand warmly. "Miss Bingley did not exaggerate your accomplishment at the pianoforte," she exclaimed, beaming at the girl. Georgiana blushed fetchingly.

"I thank you, but might I beg you to play? My brother speaks so highly of your skill."

Elizabeth took the seat, though not without saying, "I'm afraid it will be a poor show after your fine display, but I pray you will tolerate me." Georgiana listened quietly as Elizabeth made her way though the piece.

"My brother did not exaggerate either," was her remark, smiling shyly at her sister-in-law who thanked her with mock gravity. They returned to the sitting room where Georgiana volunteered to help Jane with her trousseau. Jane protested, but Georgiana persisted and Jane, once she saw her neat handiwork, could not resist. The three sat long at the chore, chatting of town life, then of Jane's wedding plans. Time flew, and Georgiana did not refuse a dinner invitation. The gentlemen from Netherfield were expected, and the three ladies retired upstairs to dress, Georgiana into a gown lent by Jane, whose tall figure was a tolerable match for Georgiana's willowy shape.

Darcy had spent the afternoon nervously awaiting dinner at Longbourn. As the dinner hour drew slowly near, he forced himself to dress slowly before joining Bingley to ride over. They rode quickly, Bingley eager to see his betrothed and Darcy in agony to discover what had transpired between his wife and his sister.

Mrs. Bennet received them both with unseemly warmth, and they entered the sitting room with her at their elbows. Kitty was first to descend and greeted Bingley warmly, slighting Darcy with the shadow of Lydia's hauteur out of long born habit. But as Jane, Elizabeth and Georgiana entered, she remembered that her dowry depended on Darcy's largesse. Suddenly, her manner echoed her mother's fulsome gestures of solicitude.

Jane and Bingley greeted each other with gently clasped hands and quiet words while Elizabeth and Georgiana greeted Darcy. Darcy noted the strange dress that he sister wore and warmed — if more warmth was indeed possible — to Elizabeth for providing for her comfort. Georgiana greeted her brother with enthusiasm, informing him clearly that she would now be spending her days at Longbourn, embroidering with the ladies to complete Jane's trousseau. Darcy hid his surprise at her enthusiasm for the project and congratulated her for her kindly plan.

"And I'm sure Bingley will thank you as well," he said with a slight bow toward that gentleman and just as slight a smile playing about his lips.

His friend, however, was gazing entranced by his fiancée's eyes and was in no position to hear or reciprocate.

Mary arrived just as dinner was announced and began the dinner conversation with a long observation upon a passage from Fordyse that served to keep the company in an uncomfortable silence until the fish was presented.

"And how is your embroidery coming along, Jane?" her mother inquired once she had satisfied herself that the gentlemen were served generously. "You know I would help her, but she and Lizzie have such excellent needlework," she explained. "And my eyes are not what they once were, of course."

Jane thanked her mother. "And Miss Darcy has helped considerably," the eldest Bennet girl continued. "I believe that she finished nearly all the hand towels by herself just this afternoon."

Kitty observed that Jane was lucky, that her initials would stay the same so she would need no new writing paper. At this, Jane and Bingley shared a shy smile and a look that conveyed that this was not the first time this had occurred to them.

Elizabeth once more smothered a feeling of envy at their carefree bonding and stirred the slender bones on her plate. She took a deep breath and smiled at her feeling, looking at Darcy who sat listening gravely to his sister as she brightly described their day together. The habitual grimness of his countenance softened as he listened to his sister, no small anxiety melting away as Georgiana described the scenes of felicity betwixt herself and Mrs. Darcy, praising warmly that one's kindness and graces.

The weeks before the wedding sped by with seeming acres of thread passing under the girls' nimble fingers. When the hovering solicitude of her mother proved too much for her own, much more robust nerves, Jane suffered their work to be removed to Netherfield, where the sisters sat at their chore in that parlor or in the warm sunshine. When the last napkin was laid in Jane's trunk, their mutual satisfaction defied words.

Mrs. Bennet, after much anxious waiting, felt her life's ambitions fulfilled — for the evening, at least — when Bingley invited his prospective parents-in-law to dine. Mrs. Bennet swelled at the sight of so much fine china and attentive footmen, exulting at her eldest being mistress of so much elegance and circumstance. Her subsequent visits to Lady Lucas proved more to the former's liking than to the latter's.

Georgiana provided terse replies to a few letters from Caroline Bingley, the first pleading for her return to town, the last bragging of her new conquests. Miss Darcy scarcely put pen to paper in response, the the correspondence quickly tapered off.

Kitty found a no more satisfying correspondent in Lydia, who wrote first to complain of the strangeness of her new school, then briefly to confide that she had attracted the interest of a young gentleman, the younger brother of one of her teachers. These letters were so short as to disappoint Kitty greatly.

Darcy met his wife nearly every day, and their sympathies and attachment grew apace. The two agreed between themselves that the day after Jane and Bingley married, they would travel together into Darbyshire. Georgiana enthused to Lizzie about the loveliness of the country and of Pemberly, but declined to travel with them, saying that she would return to London for some weeks before traveling hence. Both Mr. and Mrs. Darcy felt sure that she was deliberately allowing them to travel to their home alone, and each appreciated her shy courtesy. Georgiana could scarcely recall a happier time in her life than the busy, useful hours in Hertfordshire.

For her brother, however, the time did not pass so quickly. The hours he managed to spend with his bride, mostly walks after dinner, sped by. But the hours spent in the hunt, attending business or socializing with Bingley were slower than any he could recall, at least outside of Rosings.

Good news did come from that quarter in the form of a letter from Lady Catherine. She tersely acknowledged that the Collinses had agreed to take possession of Crockham in exchange for the Bennet estate. Mr. Bennet's satisfaction at the death of the entail was nothing to Mrs. Bennet's raptures on the subject.


	32. A Dangerous Alliance

Caroline Bingley's shoes crunched on the gravel. She gazed up at the much-windowed hall, smiling a smile of outward sweetness and inward malice. Servants stiffly bowed her into Rosings' parlor.

Her hostess acknowledged Miss Bingley's announcement with a weary wave of her hand. Miss De Bourgh, swathed in black, listened to her companion read from some instructional work of substantial length and dryness without acknowledging the intruder's presence.

"Lady Catherine," Caroline simpered, bowing. "What a great pleasure it is to meet you at last."

"Miss Bingley, I believe your brother is friend to my nephew," the matron intoned.

"My brother and Mr. Bingley have been friends for some time," Caroline replied. "Long enough for me to have heard how important Mr. Darcy's family is, and how much respect he had for his familial bonds. I was so shocked to hear of the elopement."

Mrs. De Bourgh sniffled elaborately into an immense handkerchief.

"T'was the influence of that horrible girl. Get of a common farmer, how could he have forsaken his own sworn bride, his own flesh and blood for such a one?"

Caroline made soothing sounds as she crept closer to the mourning matron.

"You have my deepest sympathies, Lady Catherine," she said. "If there is anything I can do…" Her look was the very image of earnest helpfulness.

"Do? What can I do? My daughter is forsaken, my house's heritage besmirched, and I sit powerless while Darcy and his bridge pay honor to her sister — and your brother," Lady Catherine hissed.

"Charles will learn the error of his own ways," Caroline said evenly. "I think it may be time for Mr. Darcy to do the same."

Lady Catherine sat forward eagerly.

"Perhaps, my lady, you have not heard about your niece's former suitor and Mrs. Darcy's younger sister…"

For the first time in days, pleasure lit Lady Catherine's face. It was not a lovely sight.


	33. A Friend from Afar

A week before the wedding, Mrs. Romney arrived, reputing from the carriage in a torrent of endearments and praise for England's charms.

"Mrs. Darcy, my dear Elizabeth, it is too wonderful to see you again," the Frenchwoman said, her arms wrapped around Lizzie and pausing between words to kiss the startled woman's cheeks.

"Welcome to England, Mrs. Romney," Elizabeth said warmly, returning her embrace.

Eleanor stepped back a fraction and examined her friend's face closely. "Marriage is not so bad, ma cherie, is it not? Tell me, how has your first month of married life been to you?"

Lizzie bit her lip and thought furiously. She should have expected close questioning as soon as Mrs. Romney departed her carriage, but she had not. To gain time she guided them toward the rose garden while servants bustled into the house with Mrs. Romney's parcels.

"Mr. Darcy is living with his friend Mr. Bingley and Netherfield Hall, a short drive from here," she said.

"And you are not also living at Netherfield Hall?" Eleanor asked.

"Not for lack of encouragement," Elizabeth admitted. "Mr. Darcy's sister, Georgiana, has spent every day here for the last fortnight, helping Jane finish embroidering her linens, thinking that was what was keeping me from living with them there. She's such a dear girl, and greatly looking forward to meeting you."

"But it was not the linens that kept you away," said Mrs. Romney evenly, ignoring her friend's misdirection. Lizzie sighed.

"He and I have been walking together almost every night, but I still cannot manage to make myself leave home and go to him," she admitted. "Surely everyone thinks me a most unnatural wife. But am I not?"

"Has Mr. Darcy been asking you to come to him?" her friend asked, a hint of threat in her voice.

"Only in the sweetest, most gentle way. When his sister asked him why I did not come, he said that they must not be greedy. He seems to long for my presence, and I feel guilty for denying him. But how can I go to him, with things as they are? We will go into Derbyshire together after Jane and Bingley marry next Monday. It is so soon. I cannot leave her when we have only a week left. But I have come to dread when Mr. Darcy must leave of an evening. I don't know what to feel or to do."

"Oh my dear Elizabeth, you are so good to have forgiven him."

"It is hard to bear grudges against the dead, even when they rise again."

Mrs. Romney laughed merrily. "When you wrote that he had appeared just when his termagant aunt darkened your door, I knew that some angel was looking down on both of you."

"I thought she might have had a fit of apoplexy, and I cannot be sure her state improved when her dear nephew reappeared," Lizzie said, smiling grimly.

"But his sister, she loves you already, does she not?"

"She's such a tender creature. I cannot imagine how she kept company with Mr. Bingley's sisters. She's not at all the haughty thing they made her to be."

"Then I shall look forward to meeting Miss Darcy as well," Mrs. Romney said, grasping her friend's elbow as they again circled among the flowers. Lizzie smiled at her.

"I do hope Mr. Darcy will be civil. Somehow you put the fear of God into him."

"And has he kept his end of the bargain?"

"So all the arrangements, for the estate and dowries, those were your ideas?"

"Mr. Darcy had some notion of what needed to be done. I helped him clarify those notions. Perhaps more than he wished to with a head full of old beer."

Lizzie looked at her friend with questions multiplying in her eyes.

"Oh yes, the night you spent at my house, he must have been quite in despair. His friend was not in nearly so bad a state."

Lizzie sat abruptly on a bench. "Tell me, what did he say?"

"My dear, it is not what he said. It is what he did. And the wildness in his eyes. He seemed most uncomfortable, feeling too much to be borne."

"He looks at me that way sometimes. I cannot know what to think or feel when he does. He ever seemed so guarded, so aloof, so proud."

"He was a man in desperate straits that morning, my dear. He was clinging to his amour propre with one hand and to the hope of you with the other."

Lizzie pressed her hand to her abdomen, staring into nothing.

"My dear?" Eleanor asked.

"I… he… loves… me…" Lizzie said, nearly gasping with each word.

"To be sure," Eleanor replied.

"And he is my husband," Lizzie said slowly.

"I saw you wed, myself. What is it, dear?"

Elizabeth was staring at what Eleanor was passing sure not a rosebush.

"So very much he loves me, Mrs. Romney. He has conquered his pride for love of me," she said, her voice turning incredulous.

"I have never seen a man overcome more pride for love than your Mr. Darcy," the Frenchwoman replied.

"And he had so very much to begin with. Oh Mrs. Romney, it is too much. Why should he love me so excessively?"

"He is a man of strong passions, very strong. And when in his life has he not had what he wanted?"

"I believe he never wanted to come into Hertfordshire. He only did so to please his friend, Mr. Bingley."

"Soon to be your brother, to be joined to your excellent sister Jane?"

Energized by this turn in conversation, Lizzie and Eleanor rose to walk about the flowers once more.

"This Sunday the third banns will be read, and Monday they marry," she said, her eyes glowing softly at the thought of her sister's happiness.

Mrs. Romney looked at the young Englishwoman thoughtfully. "Do you envy your sister, my dear?"

"Perhaps I did a little, when we first started to plan the wedding. But once is enough, at least with my mother," she admitted. "But sometimes Mr. Darcy will catch my eye when Mama is planning some abomination. And that look makes me able to laugh at everything. I know everything will be all right."

"But of course it will, ma cherie," Eleanor said, laughing. "And if he does not do as you like—" she clubbed the air in illustration.

Merry chaos reigned at Longbourn. If new gowns were not being tried, if suitors were not being judged, if orders were not being given, countermanded and re-given, then Mr. Bennet was still seeking refuge in his library out of what he insisted was sensible precaution.

"For I would not have thought such silliness could rule here without Mrs. Bennet's youngest daughter," he declared to Lizzie one afternoon as they sat cloistered against the din. Kitty had used Mary's book to prop up a bonnet she was decorating and refused to give it up, claiming that the dry stuff could only be meant for millinery purposes. Mary's claims upon her mother's sense of justice went perfectly unheeded.

"Everyone is driven to distraction, Papa," Lizzie said, smiling fondly at her father.

"None of them has much wits out of which to be driven," he retorted. She frowned in mock reproof and he smiled, satisfied.

"How good it has been to have you about, these last few weeks, Lizzie. I will miss you, when you are gone off with your Mr. Darcy."

Lizzie blushed and started to correct her father, then trailed off. "That he is, I imagine," she admitted.

"Undoubtedly, my dear, you have the fondest husband in all of England. Which is just as it should be. I would have said any other man wasn't good enough for my Lizzie. I would have said the same of Mr. Darcy before he proved himself thus, but I don't think any could doubt him now. No, he is just the fellow for you. Though it means I shall have to get used to a household completely without sense, particularly in Jane's absence, well, so be it."

"Oh Papa," she cried, falling on her father's neck.

"Well, well," he hrumphed. "Things seem to have quieted down in the parlor. Out you go, I have work to do." Elizabeth slipped out while her father poured himself a quiet brandy.

A great stillness pervaded the parlor. Lizzie saw Mary happily absorbed in her great tome, her mother collapsed across the sofa, fanning herself gently, and Mrs. Romney and Kitty intent at the table before a bonnet in a delicate stage of manufacture, perched on what seemed to be a large quantity of straw.

"Ah, ma cherie," Mrs. Romney cried upon seeing her friend. "I am showing Catherine how to dress a bonnet as we do back home."

Lizzie began to move toward the confection under construction, when James' entrance drew her eye. He bowed toward Mrs. Bennet and announced Mr. Chester Romney and Mr. Darcy.

Mrs. Romney started, every inch in high tension. "Mon amour?" she whispered. A man appeared in the door. Elizabeth's eyes immediately slid behind him to where Mr. Darcy waited. With some effort, she drew them back to see the freckled sailor catch his wife. Eleanor hugged her husband fiercely before turning to Mrs. Bennet.

"My dear hostess, Mrs. Bennet, may I present my husband, Chester Romney, first mate on His Majesty's ship the Laconia."

Romney bowed to Mrs. Bennet then to Elizabeth, who approached to shake his hand.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Romney. This is such a pleasant surprise." She glanced back toward Darcy. A small smile lit his face as she beamed at him.

Eleanor was introducing Romney to the other Bennet sisters — Jane having finally been drawn downstairs. Elizabeth slipped her arm into Darcy's and walked a few paces with him.

"However did you manage it, Mr. Darcy. It does seem your influence with His Majesty's navy knows no limits."

Darcy smiled and shook his head slightly.

"I've given places to a few retired sailors. The officers take it as a kindness." He smiled again and shrugged slightly.

Eleanor rounded on them, falling on Darcy with protestations of eternal friendship.

"Mr. Romney tells me that he has a week after the wedding as well! You are a saint, Mr. Darcy, a true saint!"

"Perhaps, in any case, St. Christopher would take an interest in me. Or at least, he seems to have done so."

Merry laughter rang through the parlor.


	34. Another Unexpected Journey

"Oh Lizzie, it is too much. It is too wonderful," Jane cried, gazing upon the linens her Aunt Gardiner had brought.

Elizabeth smiled upon her sister, turning to include Georgiana in her pleasure.

Jane turned toward her writing table to translate her joy into a thank you note while the others continued their labors.

"It is well that our relations' gifts as so well chosen for Jane's tastes," Lizzie observed to Miss Darcy. "I had feared her head so turned with her Mr. Bingley that she would see nothing in pots and footstools, to say nothing of linens."

Georgiana, well-versed now with the sisters' by-play, watched with pleasure while the two shared a quick smile.

"Here is one more come today," Miss Darcy said, detangling herself from straw flowers to hand over the gift."

"But where is the note?" Jane asked with some distress, turning the package over and shaking it firmly."

"Perhaps it is tucked inside," Elizabeth offered. Jane gently opened the wrappings to find a length of tartan. She held it up for their perusal.

"There is no note, Lizzie. What an odd gift," she said.

"It will make a handsome hunting jacket for Mr. Bingley, I believe," said Lizzie.

"There is a wifely thought," Jane replied, smiling at her sister.

"And glad that there is no note for you to write, which is a sisterly," Elizabeth said, rising and laughing.

"It would be no trouble," Jane said. "Lizzie, and you, Miss Darcy, have been so very helpful. I am so lucky to have you with me now."

The three were sharing loving looks and squeezes of the hands when the sound of a carriage outside the front door came through the open window.

"Is that Lydia, so soon?" Lizzie asked, hurrying to the window. "I think it must be — there, see the school crest on the door." She turned to Georgiana. "Now, remember what I said. Pay her no heed for she is a silly thing, however improved by school she might be."

Jane had taken up Lizzie's post at the window, and frowned, looking at the carriage.

"I do not see Lydia, but the woman emerging must be a teacher — she looks so strict."

The three clustered around the window to see a rather grim-faced woman stiffly exit the carriage and stride toward the front door. The next moment they were flown down the stairs, for they had seen not a whit of Lydia in that carriage.

"Again, I am very sorry, Mrs. Bennet," the headmistress repeated herself grimly. "Nothing like this has ever happened in the history of our school. It could only have been accomplished with a great deal of money."

Mrs. Bennet screamed. "I told you she was a great heiress, did I not? Did I not tell her, Mr. Bennet?"

"I believe we informed the school that our son-in-law had made some settlement upon her, my dear," Mr. Bennet said slowly. "But to think that Mr. Wickham could bribe one of the school nurses to let him in by night. It shows a great deal more cunning than his last attempt."

"And now they have run away. Oh I knew that sending dear Lydia away was a mistake. How could you have let her go?" she cried. As neither husband nor teacher cared to claim the allegation, both let it lie.

"Father?" Lizzie asked, having braved the closed door. The headmistress took this opportunity to make her exit.

Mr. Bennet abandoned the futile attempt to comfort his wife to face his daughter.

"I'm afraid the worst has happened. Lydia has eloped from her school with Mr. Wickham. They left in the night, presumably for Gretna Green. She left a note for one of her friends." He handed it over and turned back toward the howling Mrs. Bennett.

Lizzie turned back toward Jane, and the two of them read the hastily scrawled note.

"My dear Gertrude,

It seems that I will be the winner of our little wager. You may send the five shillings to Longbourn. Do give my regards to our mutual friend — you may have his conversation all to yourself now, for I have mine own Romeo. Fate could not keep us apart. Good-bye.

Your affectionate friend,

Lydia Bennet"

"Oh Lydia, how could you?" Elizabeth moaned, dropping the note to clench her hands about her head. "After all our pains, to marry the infamous Mr. Wickham." She shook with the effort to keep her feelings under control.

Suddenly she looked up at Georgiana.

"Please, send for your brother. I must speak with him at once."

Darcy was yards ahead of Bingley by the time the two neared Longbourn. He jumped from his horse and and was in the door before the dust had settled. Elizabeth was waiting just inside, and collapsed into his arms with a sob. Darcy put his arms around her, making soft noises while searching out his sister. He was relieved to see her standing close to Jane, while the other sisters twittered about the room. He then gave all his attention to his wife.

"My dear Mrs. Darcy, I am so sorry for this blow."

Elizabeth clung to him, weeping. "The school was not so safe. I — I never thought she could elope from school. What are we come to?"

Darcy gripped her shoulders and looked into her face.

"When did they leave for Scotland?"

Elizabeth tried to answer but failed for crying.

"Last night, very late," Mary supplied.

Darcy thanked her gravely, then turned back to his weeping wife.

"Mrs. Darcy, I will catch up with them and keep this thing from happening. I must go now." He gestured to a servant.

"No, don't go!" Lizzie cried, then stopped herself. "I will go with you. I must go with you — to stop them."

Darcy put an arm about her and turned from the others.

"It will be a very hard journey. I cannot stop for anything if I am to catch up with them. We would be days in the carriage — alone."

Lizzie looked up at him. "We must go, now."

The carriage wheels clattered against the road. Elizabeth leaned against Mr. Darcy, who held her — and his silence. They had been a day and a night upon the road to Gretna Green, and had not passed many words beyond the commonplace. Lizzie roused herself to stare out the window for a few moments, then startled her husband with a small laugh.

She gazed up at him. "Oh Mr. Darcy, here we are upon the road to Scotland. Was it not enough for us to elope once?" A smile played at the corners of her mouth. Darcy could not resist, he found his mood lightening and his own face realizing into a smile. The abrupt transformation tickled her and another laugh escaped, this one not so small. The laughter soon escalated between them into raucous roars.

Darcy wrapped his arms around his wife as she settled back against him. This was bliss.

"How far behind them do you reckon we are now, Mr. Darcy," she asked, the edge of laughter still in her voice.

"Half a day, perhaps. It seems Mr. Wickham's resources do not extend to the very fastest horses at each stop," he said with little satisfaction. "But how a man goes from debtor's prison to hiring horses and bribing nurses, I do not know," he mused.

"Who would help such a man, for he must have had help," Lizzie said. "Col. Forrester would never take part in such a notorious plot. And the blackguard must have exhausted every other resource long before this."

"That was ever his way," he agreed. He inhaled deeply, the scent of Elizabeth's hair filling him with an all-encompassing peace. A moment later, she jolted upright.

"Miss Bingley," she declared.

A moment passed. "Miss Bingley?" he asked weakly.

"She is an heiress, and quite unhappy with us both. She knew of Mr. Wickham and Lydia's attachment. Who else could have done this?"

"Miss Bingley was ever careful with her resources," Darcy explained. "She laid out carefully and was never extravagant. This would have pressed her means more than she would have liked. I cannot think she dislikes me enough for such waste."

Lizzie threw herself into the cushions, stumped. Darcy's arms ached in her absence, but she was too absorbed by this puzzle to notice. He turned his mind toward the puzzle, hoping to being back her laughing mood.

"Lady Catherine could well afford this. I cannot imagine her thinking of such a thing, but I do not think she was ever so upset at the day I announced our marriage to her. She has perhaps never experienced so thorough a trouncing as you delivered unto her."

"Lady Catherine and Miss Bingley," Lizzie mused sourly. "And so money married to spite have Jane and Mr. Bingley standing waiting at the alter while Lydia and Mr. Wickham are on the road to Scotland—" she stopped abruptly.

"What is it, my love?" Darcy asked anxiously.

"The tartan. The very day Lydia disappeared, a wedding present with no note came to my sister. It was three yards of tartan. Whoever arranged for the elopement must have sent it. What a cruel jest at my family's expense."

Darcy took her hand and looked at her beseechingly.

"We will catch them, Mrs. Darcy. Please do not worry."

She looked at him, shaking away tears.

"I know no better judge of horses than you, Mr. Darcy. Thank you so much for making this journey. And for letting me come. I know I should be going mad if I must wait at home, to hear if Mr. Wickham was to be my brother."

"This and much more would I do for you, Mrs. Darcy."

She sank back down next to him, her cheek upon his breast. He gently stroked her hair, the other hand cushioning her against the jolting of the carriage. She relaxed slowly, melting against him, her hands cradled against him. He wanted to crush her to him, but contented himself with gentle caresses. The unceasing motion jogged them together, and a great warmth slowly rose within them both.

Lizzie had thrown herself into Mr. Darcy's arms without thought, and now could not bring herself to let him go. His strong frame spoke comfort to every part of her, and she allowed the movements of the carriage to urge them closer together.

Darcy held Elizabeth in gentle amazement. This period of repose seemed a quiet blessing after the wild moods that had seized her by turns. Her hands clenched his coat and his heart sped with the sensation. The soft curve of her waist trembled under one hand while his other traced patterns through her hair. After some time, both their breathings slowed to match, and the quiet darkness claimed them both.

She couldn't be sure when dreams became waking. Elizabeth could not remember ever feeling so protected, so secure. Darcy was leaning back into one corner of the carriage, and she was half-reclined, held against his warmth, both arms firmly clasped about her while her hands rested against his firm jaw. Her head was nestled into the hollow of his throat, and her every inhalation brought his scent to her. She nestled her cheek against him for a moment then turned to look up at him. His eyes slowly opened and he looked at her with exquisite fondness, with aching tenderness. Gradually, his lips came to rest against hers. Elizabeth scarcely felt her hands reach to cup the back of his neck, nor her form stretch upward against him, feeling only her whole self yearning towards that touch of his lips against hers.

Her warmth seemed to burn his hands through the thin muslin. He was suffused with joy, the touch of every inch of her dear form a powerful balm.

At length, he drew slightly away. Her eyes fluttered open and he caught her gaze then drew her up to his knee, kissing her brow fervently, murmuring her name. A sudden jolt of the carriage banged her head into his nose, and she felt him lurch slightly before righting them both.

Sliding herself closer, she wrapped an arm around him, using the other to hold the side of his face while she examined him. Satisfied, she kissed his nose.

"You are unharmed, Mr. Darcy," she said, a smile dancing on her face.

"You could never bring me harm, Mrs. Darcy," he replied, entranced, brushing her hair back with tender strokes of his hand.

She smiled shyly and ducked her face toward his.


	35. A Fight in the Road

The carriage rattled to a stop. Darcy was quickly out, glanced to see the staff bringing out the fresh horses and coming quickly with blankets and brushes for the steaming steeds being brought out of the traces. He helped Elizabeth out, and she stood, gratefully stretching. Darcy reached atop the carriage to check their few bags — and in particular the pair of rapiers lashed carefully under the other packages. He turned to confer with a servant, then gave orders to continue. The pair hastened back into the carriage.

"They are no more than an hour ahead of us," he explained, seating her next to himself, his arm about her. "We should be at their heels before sunset."

"Lydia must come home with me," Lizzie said. "And Mr. Wickham—"

"I shall deal with Wickham," Darcy said darkly.

"The last time you dealt with him, he came out much the muddier, my dear Mr. Darcy" she observed, the memory lightening her out of worry about the impending encounter. Elizabeth's smile and words pierced Darcy deeply, and he felt himself reaching for her. She reached up, helping him settle her back into his lap. She wrapped her arms about him, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

"My dear, sweet Elizabeth," he breathed, nuzzling her hair.

A sharp rap on the outside of the carriage preceded the servant's words by only moments. Darcy threw open the door as soon as the coached slowed, and soon crossed the few yards to the door of the other coach. He flung that door open and took hold of the cowering Wickham. He dragged him from the carriage and threw him into the road, stalking to stand over him while Elizabeth flew to the carriage.

Lydia was already halfway out of the carriage, a complaint on her lips, when her sister drew near.

"Lydia Bennett, young lady, you will return to Longbourn with me without one word of protest or by God I will give you the lesson that you should have had long since."

"But—" Lydia started. Lizzie glared at her and started to lift her hand. Then, both women were startled by the sound of drawn steel.

Darcy held out his hands and the blades dropped neatly into them. He nodded to his servant and tossed one to Wickham.

"You may consider yourself challenged, sir. We fight now."

Wickham seized the blade and rose. Both men unsheathed their rapiers and threw away the sheaths.

Darcy held his blade loosely across himself, while Wickham assumed a high French guard. He started to advance, then was startled by his fiancee's scream.

Lydia scrambled toward him, barely restrained by Elizabeth, who managed to keep one hand on her sister, despite looking pale with shock, herself. Both women's gazes were fixed on the swords, eyes wide with fear.

"No, we mustn't let them fight, Lizzie," Lydia cried, reaching toward her lover. "I can't let him hurt dear Wickham, my angel."

Darcy had turned toward her, and Wickham seized his opponent's moment of inattention. With the quick and steady strike of a cavalier, he thrust his sword at Darcy.

The movement had caught his eye a bare moment before the blade struck his flesh. Darcy turned into the strike, which grazed his side, while plunging his rapier toward his foe half-blindly. Wickham stared at Darcy, attempting to bring his sword up to guard once more, but it steadfastly hung dumbly by his side. He looked down to see why it would not obey and saw Darcy's blade piercing his chest. He attempted to draw breath and felt nothing, even when he hit the ground.

Lydia broke from Elizabeth's restraining hands and ran to Wickham's side.

"Oh my dear Wickham, you are hurt," she said, staring in horror at the wound.

"He has killed me, you stupid thing," he slurred, slumping away from her.

Servants pulled Wickham away from the sobbing girl, took the sword from his chest and checked for signs of life. One shook his head wearily and they bent to take the body away.

Darcy was distracted from the sight of his fallen nemesis by the feel of Elizabeth's hands on his torso. She pulled up his shirt to see the wound — in truth, not much more than a scratch — along his side. She blanched at the amount of blood, a much worse wound than ever she had ever seen. The sight of the hurt on Mr. Darcy filled her with a great anxiety, and she turned up toward him in a near-panic.

"A doctor, Mr. Darcy, we must…" she clutched him.

The pain of the graze was suddenly nothing as Darcy looked into Elizabeth's eyes, saw the concern and love there.

"Your sister," he said, the world reeling around him. He managed to locate Lydia, still kneeling where Wickham had died. "She must need you."

"She must need a good beating," Lizzie muttered, reluctantly releasing her husband to stride over to where her sister knelt. She seized Lydia's arm, marched her over to Darcy's carriage and thrust her inside.

"Sit here. Do not move or speak." Her face and voice were equally forbidding. She slammed the door shut and turned back to Darcy. His man was cleaning his wound, and he grimaced under the treatment. She hung back for a moment, but when she caught Darcy's gaze, the force of it summoned her back to his side.

Darcy gratefully drew Elizabeth to his right side while trying to ignore the pain in his left. He murmured apologies.

"I am so sorry that you and your sister had to see — that," he said.

"Hush, my love," she soothed. "All will be well." When the wound was cleaned and dressed, she consulted with Darcy's man.

"My sister must immediately return home, but I cannot think of Mr. Darcy being in the carriage for long while so injured. Is there an inn nearby?"

She was assured that there was a good house not far, and she gently helped her husband into the other carriage, unable to bear being so trapped with her wayward sibling. Darcy gave orders to the servants regarding dealing with Wickham's remains, and they were off again.

The movement of the carriage pained him no small bit, but the comfort of his wife's tender caresses eased his every hurt. She lay him with his head in her lap, holding him to keep the motion from rocking him unduly, pressing his brow and cheeks with kisses.

A few miles brought them to the inn. As she helped him from carriage to door, they watched the carriage carrying Lydia hasten to the south. Lizzie shook her head scornfully then turned to help her husband.

Darcy smiled at her as she brought the bowl of soup toward the bed.

"My dear, I am not so mortally injured that I cannot sit for my supper. You would make an invalid of me," he complained lightly.

"To be sure, your wound was not as bad as his, but it is still far too bad," she explained, reading a spoonful of rich broth for him. He reached for the spoon and she reluctantly turned it over. "You must promise me that you will never fight again, for I think it would be the death of me."

Darcy tenderly promised that his fighting days were over.

"Though, truly, I had worse wounds when I was learning to ride," he said between mouthfuls of soup.

"And there are those who wonder that I do not like to ride," she exclaimed softly, soothing his pillow.

"I thought only that you prefer to walk," Darcy observed.

"Horses have always scared me," she admitted. "Or, I thought that horses scared me. Until I saw you go overboard from the Spaniel, I do not think I was ever truly afraid."

Darcy melted with her confession. "And all the while I was on Alderney, I thought you must be rejoicing to be free of me." He reached out and gathered her to him, soup and spoon alike laying ignored.

She stroked his brow tenderly. "Not even for a moment," she confessed.

He buried his face against her side for a moment, overcome. "That you could ever forgive me," he whispered soberly. "But this…"

She smiled down at him, stirred to the very depths of her soul. "Mr. Darcy," she sighed, sliding her fingers through his hair to rest against his shoulders.

The remains of the soup grew cold while they rejoiced.


	36. Jane's Wedding

"Are you sure you are ready to get back in the carriage, are you quite well enough? You cannot be," Elizabeth scolded as they finished their breakfast and Darcy headed firmly toward the door.

"And keep Bingley from the alter for another day? What sort of best man would I be then?" he asked, holding the door for her. She smiled as she moved past him, turning her head to keep his shape in her view. It was such a relief to see him standing, whole and seemingly well — though she knew the cut on his side was by no means healed by one night's rest.

"As it is I half expect they will have been married without us by the time we arrive," he said as they settled themselves, once more, into the carriage.

"I suppose we should expect no better, as we were married without them," she said lightly, settling herself against his right side. She caught him looking at her guiltily, and she reached up to soothe him.

"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. I should not have teased you so. Our wedding was what it was. Our marriage is something else altogether."

"Oh Mrs. Darcy," he breathed, stroking the side of her neck softly.

"Do you think, when we arrive at Netherfield, that Mr. Bingley will have room for one more? I admit that I cannot think of letting you away from me, even for the few days we are in Hertfordshire for the wedding."

"As he has been holding the room next to mine empty since I arrived, I should think so," he said.

"Has he?" Lizzie asked, surprised.

"I had not noticed until I heard two maids gossiping about it a fortnight ago," he said. "Though he said naught of it to me."

"Jane will be a happy wife with such a husband," she mused happily, her hands playing in her husband's hair.

"Bingley has a good heart, one of the best," Darcy affirmed, melting under her ministrations. "They are well suited. Your sister is a good, kind woman. Georgiana thinks well of her, I assure you."

"And Jane loves Georgiana," Lizzie reported fondly. "What a happy family we shall all be when they come to visit us at Pemberly."

Darcy's heart swelled with the thought of his dear ones under his roof. "A very happy family, my love," he agreed.

The crowd that awaited them as they drew up to Longbourn seemed enormous. Bingley was at the center of it, and as they drew to a stop, he opened the door and peered in.

"You have an hour to refresh yourself, then we go to church," he announced. "I've been more patient than you and quite patient enough."

Elizabeth nodded and launched herself through the door and into her sister's arms.

"Dear Jane," she cried, hugging her sister with all her might.

"Oh Lizzie, we haven't time for this, didn't you hear Mr. Bingley? You must get dressed." Her mother's shrill voice summoned her to the moment.

"Of course, Mama," she said, a smile wreathing her face as she and Jane dashed indoors and upstairs.

Bingley's man guided Darcy into a commandeered room where his clothing awaited. The groom had left nothing to chance, Darcy saw, with every detail arranged by a careful eye. He gladly abandoned himself to the man's attention, equally glad to be no longer in the carriage and that he would be by his friend's side for his marriage.

Jane had never looked so beautiful, Lizzie decided as she watched her sister float down the aisle toward her betrothed. Bingley stood frozen with anticipation as the vision in white approached. Darcy and Elizabeth's eyes met shyly, then warmly held each other's gaze, awkwardness forgotten.

Mrs. Bennet's sniffling cries of rapture crescendoed with the vows, then held steady through the liturgy, immune to Kitty's attempts to soothe her, particularly as Kitty's eye was stuck on Col. Fitzwilliam where he stood by Miss Darcy. Lydia sat at the end of the family aisle, seeming lost in thought. Only Mary sat attentive to the rector's words, while her father was thoroughly distracted by enjoyment of watching Miss Bingley studiously ignore the Darcys' blissful looks while trying to look even half-pleased at the blessed event. She failed at both.

Elizabeth looked longingly across the parlor at Netherfield at her husband. The wedding tea was delightful, but she longed to be with Mr. Darcy once again. The need to be with him had grown by leaps and bounds during their journey home. Every moment spent apart now seemed an endless torment, the dear ones standing between them appearing as fiends from the pit. She shifted uncomfortably and sipped her tea.

Suddenly she was swept upon in a torrent of embraces and French.

"Ma cherie, do you have a moment?"

"My dear Mrs. Romney, of course."

The Frenchwoman drew her aside. "I have been speaking with your youngest soeur, and I think it would be best if she returned to St. Peter's Port avec moi."

Elizabeth frowned. "If my parents agree, she may. But I could not ask such a Herculean task of you."

Eleanor pursed her lips and stared at the young lady for a moment, weighing her words. "From what Lydia has told me, it may be that a stay away from home for a few months may be beneficial for her."

Lizzie looked at her wonderingly for a few moments before understanding dawned on her face.

"Oh God," she prayed urgently. "Are you saying that — that she and Wickham—"

"So it seems, Mrs. Darcy," Mrs. Romney said calmly. "Do you agree that it is best that she come for this little visit?"

"Yes, yes, she shall. Oh Mrs. Romney, how can I thank you?"

"Your husband has put me in his debt," she explained, smiling. "I had not thought to see my English sailor for many months. This has been a gift of the heavens," she said, smiling toward her husband.

"Mr. Darcy's influence upon our navy continues to surprise me," Elizabeth said, grinning.

"He is a man of great influence," Mrs. Romney proclaimed with mock solemnity.

Elizabeth was still shaking with relief mixed with laughter when suddenly she felt her husband's touch on her arm.

"Mrs. Darcy," he said, offering his arm. "May I have the next?"

"Mr. Darcy," she replied. "You may."


	37. Epilogue: The Darcys' Wedding Night

Darcy's man quietly retreated from the room. His master lay, his wound re-dressed, comfortably in bed, recollecting the afternoon's delights. In particular the feel of his wife in his arms as they danced sat delicately in his heart.

A knock at the door between his room and his wife's set his heart hammering. "Come in," he stuttered.

"Mr. Darcy, how are you doing? You're not over-tired, are you?" she asked, crossing the room quickly. "I suppose I should not have danced with you so much."

He started to rise, protesting that he was in fine health. She gently pressed him back into the pillows, pressing a kiss to his brow.

"You may fool the rest, but you will not fool me, Mr. Darcy. I know how gravely you were injured in protecting Bennet honor. I cannot allow you to strain yourself."

He gathered her to himself, gazing up at her adoringly. "With you so near, I cannot help but heal quickly. You must not worry yourself."

She stroked his hair fondly back from his face. "If my keeping close will heal you the sooner, I should stay as close by you as I may."

Darcy's heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth to say what he knew not, when Elizabeth stopped it with a kiss. Some ages later she pulled back a nonce, and whispered, "Shall I stay, Mr. Darcy?" He could only nod fervently and slide back, drawing her down into bed with him.

They lay on their sides facing each other. She caressed the side of his face tenderly while he held her close, savoring her precious warmth so near to him.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he breathed, drawing her closer.

"And I love you, Mr. Darcy," she returned before kissing him once more.

And they lived happily ever after.


End file.
